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MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



:::;::: AS SEEN IN A BUGGY 
RIDE OF 1400 MILES FROM ILLINOIS 
TO BOSTON ::::::::::: 



;{J$J^ 



^ 



JOHN 

VINGSTON 
RIGHT 

AND 

MRS. ABBIE 
SCATES 
.,AMES 



Haktfokd, Conn. 
Truman Joskph Spkncek 

1S9S 



The Adkins Press, 
Neiv Britain, 
Conn. 



Copyright, 189S. 

By John Livingston Wright and 

Mrs. Abbie S. Ames. 

Alt riglits reserved. 



i 









ANTE-MORTEM. 



When a youngish codger in a certain town of the prairies, no event 
of the year, to me, approached, in importance, the arrival of a theatri- 
cal "show," the people "what acted out on the stage." 

Along after corn had been "shucked" and the nights were just 
stinging enough to make an overcoat feel cuddlesome, the "Lyceum 
Theatre Company, -at-the-Opera-House-for one-week" always burst 
into the village. Monday night found us boys on the front seats, the 
fathers and mothers in the centre of the hall, and the tough young 
men chewing tobacco at the rear. 

The first act of a pirated version of "The Ticket of Leave Man," 
handed to us as "A Great Wrong Righted," twanged our heartstrings 
and set all eyes on the bulge. As the curtain, with its greenish sky, a 
yellow house and a red row-boat, came down in a bunch after this 
opening act, a man in a "Prince Albert," fastened at the lower but- 
ton, pattered out in front and bespoke his soul: 

"Ladies and Gentlemen — We have came to your beautiful city to 
spend a week. We shall give you each and every evening a first class 
play acted by first-class artists. There will be an entire change of 
programme every evening. On Friday and Saturday night, we will 
present a valuable souverneer to each and every lady present. I am 
not at liberty to state just what it will be, but it will be worth the price 
of admission. And not forgetting. -the children! We will give the 
little folks a handsome toy, besides giving you all a fine play. 

"To-morrow night, we shall give the standard comedy drama, 'Street 
Waifs of New York.' This play has strong comedy parts, as well as 
good tragedy for those who like something strong. I may say there 
is also a strong vein of serio-comic and also, considerable pathos for 
those who like pathos, and there will be several neat 'specialties' for 
those who prefer 'specialties.' " And with a jerky bow, he dis- 
appeared. J. L. W. 



CONTENTS. 



F'lutteration and Embarkation - - 9 

The Road Houses of the Frontier - - 22 

The Industrial West - - - 29 

The Friend of the White Man - - 40 

Piasa, the Indian's Devil ■ - - 43 

An Open-Air Breakfast - - - 48 

In Northern Indiana - -" - 52 

Ye Bibliopolo Experto ' ' ' 59 

The First State Public School - - 68 

" Paradisian Southern Michigan" - - 73 

In the Maumee Valley; Forts Miami and Meigs 77 

Of Rare Manufacture - - - 85 

In the Ohio Oil Fields - - - 90 

The Birthplace of "The Wizard" - - 96 

Wilson's Mills . . . . iqo 

Original Shrine of Mormonism - - no 

With the Dynamo. W. R. C. Home - 117 

On the Edge of Erie - - - 122 

On Horse Stealing - . . . 130 

An Ideal College Town - - - 135 

The Meanest Man . . - . i^q 

Richfield Springs - . . . i^^ 

The Promised Land - - - 152 

Among the Hop Pickers - - - 157 

Trials and Tribulations - - - 166 

Was His Decision Just? - - - 172 



vi CONTENTS. 

Old Taverns and Modern Drunkenness - 183 

A Change of Base - - - - 190 

Farming: East and West - - - 196 

Old Fogy Towns - - - - 217 

We Soliloquize - . . . 222 



LLUSTRATIONS. 



/ 



Yours Truly - - - Frontispiece 

"Jockey" Smith's "Place" - - . 24V/ 

Shabbona - - - - - 40 ^ 

The Piasa - - - - - 44'^ 

y 

La Porte County Court House - - 54 

At Eagle Lake - - - - 56^ 

" The Odditorium" - - - - do^ 

Michigan State Public School - - 68^ 

The Present Fort Meigs - - - 80 ^ 

An Oil Well .... 90^ 

Fire in the Oil Fields - - - 94'^'^ 

Home of " The Wizard " (Milan) - - 96^ 

"Cyclone" in Action - - - 98^ 

Mormon Temple (Kirtland) - - 112 ' 

Clinton Scollard's Home - - - 134 

Hamilton College, Main Building - - 136 

Houghton Seminary - - - 138 '^ 

" Please Give Me Some " - - - 152 \/ 

Noon with the Hop Pickers - - 164^^ 

Dethroning a Monarch - - - 184 

The Rug Maker - - - - i86v 

Bennington Battle Monument - - 192 '/' 

An Iowa Farm - - - - 198 ■ 

A Western Town in " Boom" Times - 202 



FLUTTERATION AND EMBARKATION. 



I HAD tilted back my chair from the supper table 
and was watching on this mild June evening, some 
little children capering on the lawn across the 
street. Mother sat resting her hand on her elbow and 
tapping with a spoon the teacup. Presently, she looked 
over at me, with a timidly quizzical smile, and said: 

" John, I've a plan." 

" What's that? " I asked, rather absently. 

•" Let's take Kit and drive to Boston this summer!" 

" Mother Ames! Are you crazy? " I exclaimed, as I 
brought my chair down with a crash. " Why don't you 
say, ' drive to Jerusalem' ? " 

" Now, you needn't laugh. I'm in earnest, and I 
believe we can do it." 

" Why, woman do you realize what you are saying? 
You, having to be as careful of your health as you know 
how to be, planning to drive, in mid-summer, from 
Ottawa, Illinois, to Boston, a distance of over 1200 
miles, across rivers and bogs, and sand and mountains! 
Now, if you were like one of those Norse women, up in 
Minnesota, and could take a team of young mules and 
'tend eighty acres of corn, you might talk.''' 

" Well now, I had been thinking like this: We could 
just jog along each day as far as we felt disposed. When 
we saw something we were very much interested in we 
could stop and satisfy ourselves. We could stay of 
nights at the hotels or farm-houses." 



10 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

" Why, of course, if I thought you'd stand it, I'd be 
right in favor. I have suggested the idea of sum- 
mer trips with Kit before, but I never pressed the 
matter very much for I thought it would be impossible 
for you to go. I would like to tramp that way, for then 
we could really see something of the country. You 
can't get information on railroad trains. You scoot into 
a town and out before you can scarce take a wink. At 
every stopping place you're hustled off to some hotel, 
at excursion rates, which means that when they are 
through with you they will send yon home a pauper, 
and lay for the next bunch of greenhorns." 

"And think of how little we know of our own coun- 
try! Why, until I went out through Iowa, I had no 
actual understanding of the region. It was as nt^w to 
me as a foreign country. Newer even, for I cou d find 
numerous books about the latter. You know when we 
lived in New England, we could meet scores and scores 
of people who had been to Europe, but exceedingly few 
who knew what lay beyond western Massachusetts. Out 
here people are well posted mainly on their own neigh- 
borhood. " 

"Yes, when I was working as a reporter there in 
Chicago, I used to run across the keen business and 
professional men who had practically no idea of the 
topography of the state outside the city limits. They 
couldn't have told, to save their lives, how far the state 
capital was from Chicago." 

"Yet think of the tide to Europe each summer." 

" There are thirty lines of steamers running out of 
the ports of New York, Boston and Baltimore. They 
take over a moderate-sized army. How many of this 
army, do you suppose, would know, on a sudden ques- 
tioning, whether Minnesota has mountains or Ohio pro- 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A, ir 

duces gold? But can you stand the trip? That's the 
question. I'm ready to go just as soon as I feel mod- 
trately certain about that." 

"Yes, I'm sure I can. Why, out in Iowa, when I 
was looking at land, I rode sixty miles at a stretch be- 
hind a pair of half-wild Texas ponies, and most of the 
distance over unbroken prairie sod. I didn't mind it. 
Of course, I couldn't do that every day, but we'll take 
our time, and if I do find the trip too fatiguing we can 
give it up." 

• "Well. I've just enough Hail Columbia in my make- 
tip to desire to see something of this country before I 
knock around 'among them foreign dysntries,' as Arte- 
tnus Ward said, and we'll think this thing over." 

Thus, at odd times, we discussed it, and from every 
conceivable phase, I believe. We talked with friends 
Some of them said: " You II get sick of it!" "You 
can't stand the incessant riding," or, " Too hot a time 
of year to start a horse on a run like that." Others 
offered bales of advice. However, the more we studied 
the more determined we were to try, and it was not 
long until we we found ourselves making earnest prep- 
arations. The numerous articles we wanted to take 
with us, as we came across them, we piled up in a 
vacant room. A couple of days before we were to 
start, I was surveying the heap, and as mother came in 
to fling on another armful she said, half apologetically, 
"I guess we shall need a freight car instead of the 
phaeton." 

"Well," I replied, "we certainly shall have a load 
so big Kit can't start it, to say nothing of hauling it to 
Boston." 

As w-e we were forced to " sorting out " this mess, I 
thought of what a friend, Major , had said, that 



12 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

we would have to be careful, or we'd have the experi- 
ence the raw recruits in the late war used to have on 
their first march. "You could always trail them," 
quoth he, " clear along the route, by the discarded dry- 
goods and pill-boxes that lined the road." 

We finally got down as closely as we could on supplies 
and mother will tell of the start. 



" How will the horse stand it?" 

That was the question asked us by everybody. In- 
deed, the horse was an exceedingly doubtful factor in 
the journey project. All those we consulted, and we 
visited every experienced horseman within the limits o\ 
our acquaintance, declared it was a risky undertaking 
in this respect. This did not deter me, however. 1 
had taken care of Kit for eight years. She was nearly 
twelve years old, and without blemish ; compactly built, 
with broad, powerful chest, sinewy limbs, uninjured by 
strain or overwork. I felt confident that we could so 
take care of her that she would average a drive of about 
twenty miles a day; possibly, I argued, not more than 
fifteen, but, more probably, twenty. Some of the con- 
ditions were against us, I well knew. Our journey was 
to begin in the extreme heat of central Illinois, in July, 
and Kit had literally no training for the work before 
her. She had not been harnessed for seven months, 
and all the exercise she had had on the road during that 
period was an occasional canter under the saddle, of an 
hour or so. We had a barn-yard where we were accus- 
tomed to turn her loose by day, and by this means she 
obtained exercise sufficient to keep her limbs and feet 
in healthy condition. Her food was Iowa prairie hay, 
with a quart of oats night and morning, and she was 
very fat. 



MR EAGLE'S U. S A. 



13 



Our phaeton was covered, low swung and heavy; this 
with two people of medium weight and one hundred 
pounds of luggage, was no light load for a horse weigh- 
ing less than ten hundred pounds. We kept pruning 
our luggage, until it comprised just a change of cloth- 
ing for each of us, a heavy wrap, for we expected to be 
on the road about three months, a little box of tools, 
pieces of rope, twine, leather, etc., in case of accident 
to carriage or harness, and a few medicinal remedies 
for illness, or injury of ourselves or horse. As an 
important part of our outfit, I must mention an alcohol 
lamp, two tin cups, two spoons, two knives and forks, 
a little sugar and coffee, and a bottle for milk or water. 
I stowed away my belongings in a leather valise that we 
placed on the floor of the phaeton between us. John 
packed his into a tennis box that he had painted black, 
and this he strapped to the back of the phaeton. Kit's 
water pail John wanted to hang to the back axle. I 
objected. But John insisted that there was no other 
place for it, and as Kit was too dainty to drink by the 
roadside, or after any other horse, a pail of her own 
she must have, and dangle from the hind axle it must, 
and it did. That was our "traveler's display card," 
and I tried to flatter myself that it was all the tourist's 
sign we had, for John had quite skilfully tacked a piece 
of black oil-cloth to the back of the phaeton, so that it 
entirely covered the tennis box, and when the top of 
the carriage was turned back the box and its device 
were concealed from view. At the beginning, I wanted 
us to seem like the ordinary, short-journey pleasure- 
seekers, but John was bent on securing our comfort. 

In talking with friends about the journey, they would 
say: "What courage you must have. Mrs. Ames! " and 
" Never were you more mistaken, " would be my answer, 



14 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

"my great lack of courage is one of the reasons why I 
undertake the trip. For six years after I purchased 
Kit, I drove her everywhere, both in the saddle and 
buggy. I had the sole care of her, and, without any 
especial cause, so far as I could discover, my courage 
began to fail, and now, for nearly two years, I have 
not driven her at all. I am afraid to go with John even. ' 

" Has Kit grown vicious? " 

" Not in the least. She is just as good as ever. She 
always was shy. That is her only fault. I always 
kept the lines firmly in hand, and was careful not to 
bring her into close contact with objects that I knew 
she feared to the point of refusing to pass them." 

"But how about electric cars and steam threshers?" 
would be asked. " The thresher goes everywhere. " 

"Those questions are the most formidable I have to 
answer, even for myself," I would reply. "They are 
just the ones that make our journey seem impossible, 
and that have bothered me more than everything else 
combined. Kit is highly intelligent, but she always 
begins to prance the minute she comes within sound of 
those puffing engines. One advantage is, they move 
slowly. When we see one coming, we will have to turn 
and go back to some farm-yard where we can drive in 
and stay until it passes. As for electrics, we will have 
to keep away from the streets where they run. That 
is all the solution I can give to the problem." 

"A pretty hard lookout," would be the dubious com- 
ment. 

"Yes, I admit that," I'd say, "and for a couple of 
weeks I shall, no doubt, suffer with fear, but I hope 
that, after a while, my old-time courage will return. 
Although I am fifty-four, I can not believe it is my 
years which make me such a coward. " 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S A. 



15 



As the day neared when we were to set out, I grew 
very nervous with dread of the undertaking. I used all 
my will power in trying to keep my mind from dwelling 
upon the subject. When I would reason about the mat- 
ter my judgment always decided that Kit's unusual in- 
telligence would restrain her from any serious outbreak, 
even under the stress of sudden fright, and that I would 
sooner trust her than any other horse I ever knew. I 
felt that eight years' companionship had shown me her 
true make-up. She had not an element of treachery, 
or trickiness in her nature. Her one fault, fear of cer- 
tain objects, I must guard against. 

Thus I reasoned, over and over, and over again, and 
yet, when the prospective journey would be suddenly 
brought to my mind, a chill of dread would creep along 
my nerves, then my heart would beat so fast that my 
whole body would seem only distressing heart-beats. I 
kept all this suffering to myself, for I knew that if John 
were aware of my real condition, he would never con- 
sent to start out with me. I came to the conclusion 
there was something wrong with my nerves, and if I 
did not recover from it, I would grow from the coward 
that I now was into a troublesome hypochondriac. I 
was determined to make an attempt at the journey, and 
if I found, after a thorough test, that I could not over- 
come this cowardice, why, we would give up the under- 
taking. 

The heat for ten days prior to our start was terrific. 
The mercury registered all the way from 90 to 104 in 
the shade. We had fixed upon the eighteenth day of 
July, 1897, to start, but it rained, a perfect down-pour. 
At noon the next day it lulled. Did not clear up, but 
lightly drizzled. We preferred this to the intense heat 
that would probably follow with an unveiled sun, and 



l6 MR. EAGLE'S U S. A. 

the suffocating steam that would rise from the deluged 
soil. The roads were muddy, but not sticky, as they 
would be later, when they began to dry. It was two 
p. m. when John and I gathered our mackintoshes 
about us, drew up our rubber lap-cloth, and turned 
Kit's head eastward from Ottawa. 

"I feel as if I were going away from home," said 
John. " How gray and grewsome an afternoon it is ! " 

" So do I," I answered with a decided sinking at the 
heart. 

" I am afraid we'll wish ourselves back in Illinois 
many a time before the next July," added John. " 1 
expect these cornfields will seem exceeding rich to us 
when we get among the rocks." 

" It is a good state to make a living in," I remarked. 
"Even the shiftless get along here very well. If we 
were going to New England to stay, and start anew in 
life I'd turn about and put Kit in her stall this minute. 
I did not live there thirty-five years for nothing." 

Kit walked fourteen miles before dark. This was 
farther than we had intended to go, for we had made 
up our minds, in view of all the information we had 
gathered concerning the experiences of others in driv- 
ing horses, that it was not wise to allow her to go more 
than ten miles per day for the first ten days. But we 
wanted to reach a hotel, and in order to do this were 
compelled to drive to Seneca, fourteen miles from Ot- 
tawa, or stop in Marseilles which was seven. One place 
was too distant, the other too near. 

Well, despite all our expansive plans and resolutions 
in regard to being careful, our trip came near ending 
with our second day's drive. 

We started from Seneca about three p. m. on the 
20th. The sun was shining fiercely, but at this hour 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. I7 

there was a slight breeze. We inquired the way to 
Morris, ten miles distant, and were told to take the 
" canal road. " 

We had not then learned that it would not do to trust 
to the advice of only one person in selecting the road 
we were to take from town to town, or, covering dis- 
tances from ten to fifteen miles. We had our general 
route mapped out before leaving Ottawa, but there 
were so many contingencies that we must guard against, 
roads being repaired, unsafe bridges, dangerous prox- 
imity to railroads, and so on, that could only be learned 
from residents in the vicinity, we saw that there was no 
safety for us but in making careful inquiries each morn- 
ing concerning the best road to take to reach a certain 
point. That we could easily obtain all such informa- 
tion we never doubted. "There are plenty of people 
in every little village who are familiar with the roads 
leading to neighboring towns a dozen miles away," we 
decided in an off-hand manner, and with this dismissed 
the subject. We did not stop to consider that the ave- 
rage person sees but one or two phases of even the 
most commonplace question, and, more often, but one, 
and that he can not quickly grasp several features of a 
subject, compare them, and draw deductions. For in- 
stance, you ask him to tell you the best road to a cer- 
tain place. He will answer you in accordance with 
some one feature that presents itself to his mind at the 
moment. If it is a muddy season, he will direct you 
to take the dryest; if a hilly locality, the most level; if 
sandy, the hardest; and so on. One advantage he will 
seize upon as the all-important one, and question as you 
may, you cannot obtain from him a reliable description 
of the advantages, or disadvantages, of any one road, as 
compared with others. 



l8 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

We received our first lesson along this line when we 
followed the direction of a single adviser, and took the 
canal road from Seneca to Morris, the intensely hot 
afternoon of July 20th. 

Kit had walked along for about an hour, the heat all 
the while growing more intense, as the hedges and 
bushes on either side of the road thickened, and we 
wound along the level path of the Illinois & Michigan 
canal. I kept an anxious watch upon Kit, for I realized 
the suffocating nature of the heat. The breeze that 
moved upon the open prairie died down in this narrow 
road between the hedge-rows until not a leaf quivered. 
There was not a cloud in the heavens, nor a tree by the 
road-side, to break the terrific force of the sun's fiery 
shafts, as they poured down upon Kit's poor faithful 
head. Her black coat was flecked with foam, and she 
plodded along at a very slow pace. Presently, she came 
to a full stop. 

"This is more than Kit is equal to," I exclaimed in 
alarm, as I quickly alighted and went to her head. 

" Lucky she stopped. She's blowing badly," I added, 
glancing at her heaving sides. ' ' She's not going another 
step in this shape," and I hurried to the carriage for a 
bottle of water. With this I wet my handkerchief, and 
sopped her head between the ears, then wet her mouth 
and nostrils. When I spread my umbrella and held it 
out over her head, then began fanning her vigorously, 
the picture I made was too much for John. He laughed 
till he panted too. 

"Oh, mother," he spluttered between his bursts of 
merriment. "You're starting for Boston, are you ? By 
George, this looks like it! Twenty mile's out, and 
look at you! How long are you going to keep that 
up ?" 



MR. EAGLF'S U. S. A. 



19 



"Till she breathes easier, if we stay here in these 
flats all night," I answered resolutely. 

"That's just what you'll do. I know ye," heaving a 
most lugubrious sigh. Then he said : 

"But I do just wish you'd let us find a shade tree. 

"You better be thinking of holding this umbrella 
over Kit while I wet her head," I answered in a tone 
that brought him out of the phaeton; though he mut- 
tered : 

"I suppose you'd like to hitch me to the shafts and 
let Kit ride, wouldn't you ? " 

"But, well, she is nearer 'done up' than I thought!" 
and his ridiculing quickly changed to genuine anxiety, 
as he looked her over. "I never thought of her being 
in this condition. Here, let me sop her head and wet 
her mouth while you fan. I'll give her an apple, too, 
poor old Kit ! Why, I didn't think she was this far 
along. I just thought you had one of those periodical 
notions of yours that you'd got to get out and pet Kit. 
Poor old Kit 1 " 

We worked over her until the shadows of night began 
to creep in among the bushes and hedge rows, and the 
golden light that lay upon the vast stretch of open 
prairie on our left gradually gathered up its brightness 
and commenced to recede toward the west. Then we 
ventured to move slowly onward. 

It was ten o'clock when we drove into a livery stable 
at Morris, tired, hungry, and thirsty, and still worried 
about Kit. We did not feel in the least sure that she 
had not been permanently injured by over heating, al- 
though she novv breathed quite naturally. The pro- 
prietor of the stable happened to be there, and he had' 
the hostler hitch her in the carriage room until she 
cooled off; he had her limbs rubbed, and her back 



20 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

where the harness had rested washed with a weak sol- 
ution of salt and water. 

As we stood watching the hostler, while he followed 
directions, the proprietor, looking Kit over, and now 
and then patting her, said: 

" Mighty fine animal^too fat, though. Don't see 
how you got her along that canal road this, the wust 
day o' the season. Why didn't ye take the ridge road.? 
Heap cooler. We had a fine horse drop in the harness 
this afternoon. Didn't live fifteen minutes after he 
dropped." 

"Would it not be best to give Kit two or three 
swallows of water?" I asked presently. 

"Yes, but not more than a quart, at most. It'» 
best to wait an hour before 'lowin' her to drink a pail- 
ful. A little hay won't hurt her, though, if she will eat 
it. How many oats do ye give her at a feed? " 

"A little less than two quarts." 

The man laughed, as he said quizzically; 

"Pretty small 'lowance for a horse to travel on." 

" Yes," I returned, " but we have to change her diet 
very slowly, or she will be sick." 

I gave a brief explanation and told of her lack of 
preparation for this journey. In reply, he said: 

" You are quite right in bringing about all changes 
in her habits very gradually. You'll have to drive her 
mighty slow 'till she hardens. If you don't pack her 
feet every night with mud, wet as it will stick, wlien 
the roads are h;ird, she will get a fever in her feet and 
be lame. She'll have to be washed and curried mighty 
careful too, or she'll get scalded under the harness, and 
be all raw. She's a beauty (stroking Kit's face), but 
she's too derned fat for this weather." 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A 2j 

" Do you think she is injured already?" I inquired 
anxiously. 

"Hardly," (offering her a wisp of hay which she 
eagerly grabbed). He laughed, saying, " Pretty good 
sign, 'specially when the eyes are bright as her's, and 
she breathes easy. 

Weary as we were, we did not retire until we had 
seen for ourselves that she had eaten and drank, and 
was apparently in her normal condition. Then it was 
midnight. 



THE ROAD HOUSES OF THE FRONTIER. 



ALL ALONG this section of the Illinois valley, at 
regular intervals, weather-beaten, time-worn 
buildings are to be found, monuments to the 
days when Illinois was on the outskirts of civilization, 
and given over to Indians and outlaws.. These build- 
ings are the gradually vanishing relics of that institu- 
tion known to every old settler of the state as the 
"frontier roadhouse." 

Two of the most celebrated of these affairs were 
established and managed by an individual known, far 
and wide, as "Jockey" Smith. This man, whose 
proper title was supposed to be Morris D. Smith, ap- 
peared in LaSalle county, so far as can be learned, 
about 1850. Who he was, or where he came from, 
no one seems to know. He had, however, a great deal 
of money. It was expended freely, and, apparently, 
was without limit. In many respects, this "Jockey" 
Smith was easily the most mysterious being the county 
ever had as a resident. 

Smith's first move was to buy a lot of land along the 
river, about seven miles west of Ottawa. He erected, 
on the south side of the river, a great stone structure 
with walls heavy enough to serve for a fort, and, indeed, 
that was what this place became at times. The build- 
ing was called the "Sulphur Springs House," from the 
fact that, close by, was a flow of mineral water said to 
possess strong medicinal properties. There was some 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 23 

effort made to herald the locality as a summer resort, 
but it was rather early in the history of Illinois to have 
any such attempt as that taken seriously. The coun- 
try was wild and thinly settled, the men who roamed 
through this region were hardy, daring fellows, used 
to carrying their lives in their hands. The easy, city 
saunterer had not then entered, and it would not have 
been very pleasant for him if he had. The valley was 
the home of horse thieves, free-booters, and despera- 
does who made life for the stray settler one of danger 
and hardship. Far from being a summer resort, the 
Sulphur Springs House was used as a headquarters for 
the rufifians and the lawless. Here these people used 
to have great times — horse-racing on a private track 
near the hotel, while cock fights and drunken brawls 
were the incessant round. 

As far as the matter of affording protection from 
interference of law was concerned, the haven was ad- 
mirable. There was no town of consequence near, 
and, in case a party suspected it was being trailed, 
ready escape was had to the wooded bluffs and hills all 
along the river, where successful pursuit was next to 
impossible. Concerted, swift action by officers of the 
law was out of the question. The "prairie banditti" 
stole horses and flourished in utter disregard of such 
individuals as deputy sheriffs. 

Finally, Proprietor Smith got into rather tortuous 
financial straits, and had so many mortgages at- 
tached to his possessions that he, in turn, had to 
vacate. A brother, said to be a lawyer in New York- 
city, came on the scene to straighten up "Jockey's" 
affairs as best he could. Some time later, when the 
county had become more settled, an effort was made 
to run the "Sulphur Springs House" as a legitimate 



24 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



summer place. For a while, a moderate patronage 
was enjoyed. The famous violinist, Ole Bull, once 
slept in this old structure. So has Patti, the noted 
giver of "farewells to America. " It seemed useless, 
though, to try this summer business. There was not 
enough money. Again the house changed hands. 
For several years, the stone fort has been occupied as 
a common farm-house 

"Jockey" Smith however, was not to be driven so 
easily from LaSalle county. He had hardly been ousted 
from the "Sulphur Springs House, "ere he was making 
plans for another resort which was destined to com- 
pletely overshadow the notoriety of his former refuge, 
and to become, in the general estimation, a type of the 
Bender farm which, years afterward, was established 
on the Kansas plains. 

Smith bought property lying a little southeast of 
Marseilles, and, within the shelter of a convenient bluff, 
near the Illinois river, he put up a long, low, wooden 
house, which was well supplied with windows and loop- 
holes excellently calculated to afford an opportunity 
for observing any approach, no matter from which 
quarter it came. It became noised about that this place 
was a sort of "fence" for the horse thieves, although 
the proprietor made strenuous efforts to create the im- 
pression that he was carrying on a farm, and was will- 
ing to give travelers accommodation merely because 
there was no convenient hostelry near. It was declared 
that stock was brought in here and kept until such time 
as it could be traded, or conveniently run off to other 
localities. Then came reports about mysterious disap- 
pearances. Tourists and stockmen would put up here 
over night, and not be seen again. No investigations 
were made, however, for the country was so thinly set- 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 25 

tied that it took some time for news to get around, and 
when the excitement might have been fomented to a 
pitch requisite for action, it was timidly and neglect- 
fully concluded that the matter would not perhaps yield 
evidence. 

Passing travelers in those days were apt to be suspi- 
cious, and not disposed to reveal much about their busi- 
ness or destination. They put up at the taverns, ate their 
meals, paid their bills, and departed without having 
made any acquaintances. No registers were kept, and 
when the wayfarer set out on his day's journey, he had 
left no trace behind him. not even his name. It was 
doubtless owing partially to these facts that Smith so 
long found it comparatively easy to hoodwink the farm- 
ers whw might make any inquiries of him. He could 
advance any number of plausible explanations. 

Things got at last, in spite of all Smith's cunning, to 
a serious i)itch. He found himself in the courts, 
charged with having attempted a big insurance swindle. 
Smith engaged in an alleged manufacturing enterprise. 
A large mill was constructed at an outlay of nearly 
$200,000. It was heavily insured, and hardly had the 
policy been placed, when the entire structure was de- 
stroyed by fire. Smith and others were proven to have 
had some part in the affair, yet they escaped conviction. 

Some time afterward, a peddler stopped over night 
at "Jockey's" place. That was the last seen of him. 
A few days later. Smith offered the peddler's horse for 
sale. Then, a servant girl was missed. Next, Smith's 
housekeeper disappeared. At last, the whole neighbor- 
hood was aroused. Smith fled, and this was the last 
knownof him in these parts. 

.•\fter Smith had gone, and when farmers had become 
tenants of the long house, discoveries were made which 



26 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

showed that Smith had in all certainty been conducting 
a regular systematic factory. 

While investigations were being made in the cellar, 
an entrance to a subterranean vault was discovered. 
This was explored and found to connect with a series 
of rooms, or chambers, which led back beneath the 
bluff for a distance of fully two hundred feet. South 
of the house, this tunnel sloped up toward the surface 
of the ground. These caves showed where the stolen 
horses were kept, and blood stains on the decaying 
timbers suggested other things. When the farmers 
began to till the land, they began to turn up skel- 
etons. One was found in the well Another was ex- 
posed while a tile ditch was being dug. A third was 
found in the bluff These revelations induced great 
excitement, but nothing was done. No effort was made 
to locate Smith. No inquiries were set afoot to learn 
the identity of any of those who were known to have 
stopped at the Smith farm. Still the finding of the 
skeletons went on. Up to the present time there must 
have been as many as twelve or fourteen brought to 
light. The supply does not yet seem to be exhausted. 
Some farmer brings a few bones into Marseilles, and 
the local paper contains an item to the effect that 
another skeleton has been found on the "Jockey" Smith 
place. Here is a sample, clipped from a late issue of 
this paper : 

"The finding of another skeleton on Mr. Summerhay's farm yes- 
terday, has revived the stories of the many murders supposed to have 
been committed by 'Jockey' Smith. The sl<eleton was dug up by the 
highway commissioners of Brookfield, who are at work on a new road 
immediately back of the cabin formerly occupied by Smith. It is ru- 
mored that two other skeletons were unearthed on the farm this sum- 
mer, besides the one found on the river bank by Henry Dawell, but 
the find was kept a secret by the owner, who thinks that enough un- 
pleasant notoriety is attached to the place already." 



MR. EAGLE'S U S. A. 27 

That an institution such as this Smith establishment 
could have been conducted for so many years without 
molestation or investigation by the authorities, might 
seem strange, even in consideration of the conditions 
already expressed. It seems still more strange that 
.when skeletons began to be discovered, no attempt was 
then made toward any partial clearing up of the mys- 
tery. Great efforts have been put forth to examine the 
localities about death mills in Missouri and on the Kan- 
sas prairies, where the Benders and others held forth 
so long. Yet, here in the Illinois Valley, at a distance 
of less than eighty miles of Chicago, and near 
which the main line of the Chicago, Rock Island & Pa- 
cific R. R. has been laid for years, not an individual 
has ever come to this Smith place for the purpose of 
serious, determined investigation. The first extended 
account of this notorious resort is presented in this 
book, and the first and only picture ever made of the 
"Jockey" Smith house is contained herein. 

At this late date, the identity of any of the numerous 
skeletons \vill probably never be decided upon, and all 
the solution that can be offered is that they are the 
mortal remains of stockmen and travelers who disap- 
peared while going through the Illinois Valley in the 
'6o's. 

Nature's strongholds in this region, for an area of 
many square miles, were once the main dependence of 
the freebooter's paradise. The bluffs along the Illinois 
are of lime-stone, and full of caves, some of which 
greatly resemble small cottages cut out of the solid 
rock. That is what a few of them undoubtedly are, 
the handiwork of man being unmistakable. Near the 
city of LaSalle is a cave that has been supposed to have 
been known to the Indians in the days when the French 



28 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

explorers went through the country. There is a tradi- 
tion that the Indians were plentifully supplied with 
lead, and they frequently offered it in barter for the 
goods and trinkets which LaSalle had shipped down 
from Canada. It was supposed they obtained this lead 
from some cave near by. The same story was preva- 
lent among the early settlers in the county, and it is 
claimed the Indians, then, still got quantities of the 
mineral. Recently an attempt was made to explore 
the cave in question. Several trips were made to the 
place by parties organized at LaSalle, as the cavern 
lay but a short distance up the river toward Ottawa. 
All that came of these expeditions, however, was that 
the seekers after a possible lead mine, entered the cave 
for a distance of about two-hundred-and-fifty feet. 
Then their torches gave out, and so did their interest 
after a few repetitions of the experience. There is no 
doubt that this cavern would be well worthy scientific 
investigation, as would some of these ten or twelve 
others within the vicinity of LaSalle, Ottawa, Marseilles 
and Seneca. It was about 1840 to 1850, that LaSalle 
and Grundy counties were at the mercies of those great 
companies of horse thieves, the "prairie banditti" as 
they were called, and then these hidden recesses of the 
valley were thoroughly utilized. Their location made 
them excellent forts. Sentinels from the top of the 
bluffs could survey the country for miles, and for a few 
settlers, or a sheriff's posse to try to get the best of a 
gang of "rustlers" was almost beyond possibility. But 
these days have passed, and the man who skims along 
the foot of the bluffs in a Pullman train is not likely 
to realize that this section was ever dangerous. 



THE INDUSTRIAL WEST. 

TT THILE comparatively few, even in the West, 
V/V/ have any adequate conception of the fact, it 
undoubtedly is a fact, however, that the middle 
West is to be, and that, too, within a surprisingly short 
period, the one great dictatorial power of the United 
States in an industrial respect, just as it now is in an 
agricultural. This region will be the center of manu- 
facturing in this country, around which all other com- 
mercial enterprise will circle in a more or less tributary 
sense. 

And there are men who see it. 

In the past five years they have been quietly laying 
the wires, slipping into towns and getting deeds to 
property that villagers have viewed as of little especial 
value,, securing franchises, and accomplishing a thou- 
sand more feats that are to place millions within the 
next ten years in their control. 

I can not do much more here than to merely call 
attention to some of the signs pointing this as a con- 
servative prediction. A volume by itself would be re- 
quired to thoroughly deal with the subject. 

First. Let us remember that in 1850 eight of the 
first ten States of the Union, in amount of gross value 
of products were Eastern, but that in 1890 only five of 
the Eastern States were on the list, their places hav- 
ing been taken by Western States. 



30 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



Coming to manufactures, we find that while in 1850 
the center of manufactures, speaking in a statistical 
sense, was near Mifflintown, Pennsylvania, as far back 
as 1890 the center had moved westward to a point just 
i)eyond Canton, Ohio, and at this time should be con- 
siderably nearer Indiana. 

Massachusetts, still, is the first state in the textile 
industries. Compare, however, the records of Illinois 
and Massachusetts from 1850 to 1890, in the matter of 
net value of manufacturing products: 

Massachusetts, 1850, $ 71,887,223. 

" 1880, 244,162,629. 

" 1890, 414,960,969. 

Illinois, 1850, 7,574,945- 

" 1880, 125,020,766. 

" 1890, 399,621,191. 

\Ve see that, starting in 1850, when Illinois was just 
on the eve of agricultural development, manufacturing 
not being dreamed of, to any extent, we find her in 
1890 only about fifteen millions behind the Bay State! 

Compare these five States of the Middle West with 
the New England States for the year 1890: 

Illinois, 1890, $908,640,280. 

Ohio, 1890, 641,688,064. 

Missouri, 1890, 324,561,993. 

Michigan, 1890, 277,896,706. 

Wisconsin, 1890, 248,546,164. 

Indiana, 1890, 226,825,082. 



Massachusetts, 1890, $888,160,403. 

Connecticut, 1890, 248,336,364. 

Rhode Island, 1890, 142,500,625. 

Maine, 1890, 95,689,500. 

New Hampshire, 1890, 85,770,549. 

Vermont, 1890, 38,340,066. 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



31 



Are we sure that " corn and oats," the only factors 
heard in past years as typical of the West, are to be the 
only ones? Even Minnesota in 1890 had a higher gross 
value of manufactured products than did Rhode Island. 

In 1890, of the total volume of manufactured prod- 
ucts of the United States, the North Atlantic States 
(Maine, Vermont, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, 
Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, 
and Pennsylvania) produced 52.25 per cent., and the 
North Central States (Illinois, Indiana, Michigan, Wis- 
consin, Minnesota, Iowa, Missouri, North Dakota, 
South Dakota, Nebraska, and Kansas) 33.71 ! Remem- 
ber that it is scarcely thirty years ago, when a man who 
had prophesied such a showing in the line of manufac- 
tures would have been considered much as William T. 
Sherman was when he said, at the outbreak of the Civil 
War: "There will be a long and sanguinary struggle 
and the number of Union forces ought to be greatly 
increased." 

We have been taking a glance at what the manufac- 
turing advance ofthe Middle West has been up to the 
time of taking the last census. Full of meaning as the 
figures just given are, they are dwarfed into insignifi- 
cance when we consider what has been undertaken 
since that date. The West has been engaged in some 
engineering works that are prodigious in commercial 
possibilities. They show that the supremacy of this 
territory, industrially, is inevitable. 

One of these engineering feats is the completion of 
the great locks at Sault Ste Marie. These are 800 feet 
long, and have a lift of 18 feet. The cost of construc- 
tion is $5,000,000. The importance of these locks con- 
sists of the fact that the largest ships can go from Lake 
Superior into Lake Michigan and clear to Buffalo. The 



32 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



tonnage through here will be far greater than through 
the Suez canal. An idea of how lake traffic has devel- 
oped in the last twenty years, or so, can be gained from 
the conditions showing that Chicago is at present the 
greatest inland port of the world, and in point of ton- 
nage ranks third in the world, taking into consideration 
either inland or seaboard ports. Cleveland and Buffalo 
have a greater freight tonnage than any three Atlantic 
jjorts! The Sault Ste Marie locks, or the "Soo," as it 
is termed, now provide a direct water-route outlet for 
the iron and copper of the Lake Superior region clear 
to the greatest ore docks in the world, at Ashtabula, 
Ohio, and a route which means a vastly cheaper trans- 
portation than by rail. 

For many years it was the conviction that the canal 
was a thing of the past. Industrial activities now indi- 
cate that the canal is going to engage a widespread 
attention. Illinois, in her Chicago Drainage Canal en- 
terprise, is taking a step that will be a wonderful fac- 
tor in Western commercial advancement. This channel 
completed will have cost $33,000,000. ' It has a length 
of twenty-eight miles, and extends from a point just 
north of Joliet, in a northeasterly direction, to Chicago, 
and goes through the city to the lake, probably con- 
necting with the latter at a point not far from i6th 
street. While the disposal of the sewage of the city of 
Chicago was the need that inspired the building of this 
great channel, the value of the work in that respect 
will be lost sight of in comparison to the gigantic man- 
ufacturing possibilities that the completion opens up. 
This channel will carry 600,000 cubic feet of water per 
minute from Lake Michigan down through the Illinois 
river, raising the surface of the latter from three to four 
feet, thence to the Mississippi, at Alton. With the 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



33 



completion of another canal, now in process of con- 
struction, the Hennepin, extending from near the town 
of Hennepin, on the Illinois, some sixty miles south- 
west of Lockport, the lower terminus of the Drainage 
Canal proper, straight west sixty-six miles to the Mis- 
sissippi, it will be possible f')r the largest boats to go 
from Chicago direct to the " Father of Waters." This 
means an invaluable boon to the country in the matter 
of commercial progress, as well as a protection in case 
of war. But the water power developed by this Drain- 
age Channel is the most important feature of all. Com- 
petent engineers have estimated that fully 80,000 horse 
power will become feasible in the towns scattered along 
the line of channel and below, through the Illinois Val- 
ley, taking into consideration such places as Lockport, 
Joliet, Morris, Marseilles and Ottawa. There is a fall 
of nearly ninety feet between the surface of Lake Mich- 
igan and the present surface of the Illinois, at Ottawa, 
which is eighty-four miles southwest of Chicago. 

To judge a bit by comparison, it should be remem- 
bered that the water-power which drives so many mills 
at Minneapolis is but 30,000 H. P. In the development 
of this water-energy in the Illinois valley, all that will 
be required are a few thousands expended in the con- 
struction of dams, breakwaters, and "cut-offs." The 
finishing of the Drainage Channel will, virtually, place 
the power ready for the mill. What does all this mean? 
Undoubtedly, the fact that a great transformation is 
going to take place in this fertile Illinois region. 
Farmers will work in the fields around these prairie 
towns, while the mill hands will toil away within the 
towns. Far-sighted men will repair to New England, 
purchase mill machinery which has been standing in idle 
shops, transport it to the West, and set it up in this 



34 



MR. EAGLE'S U, S. A. 



valley. It is not long until you will find here the cot- 
ton mill. Why? Because the raw product can be 
brought over a very short distance, less than three hun- 
dred miles, and either by any of three or four railroads, 
or water. The cost of this will be infinitesimal as com- 
pared with the cost of shipment to the New England 
cities. Perhaps some one says; " But how about ship- 
ping the manufactured product? The tendency of the 
textile industry is to localize and centralize." Are we 
so certain? Does it look, judging by the movement of 
Southern industrial energy the past ten years, as if New 
England were always to remain the manufacturing 
headquarters? The South is making herself felt in Fall 
River, Lowell, Manchester and New Bedford, and to a 
degree little suspected by most of us. New England's 
cotton interests are gradually being swept away by the 
South and West. Even the Overland mills, away out in 
Denver, are securing contracts which place their prod- 
ucts in Boston. As regards shipping from the facfory, 
let it be noted that there is a steady movement toward 
sending exports down the Mississippi. The ports of 
Texas are constantly increasing in volume of business. 
Your Kansas grain dealer has been taking advantage of 
this short cut to the South and Southwest for some time. 
Shipment Southward is bound to compete heavily, 
sometime, with that Eastward. We shall one day hea- 
the last of the "barons of the Eastbound freight lines. '' 
The above is not passing without heed. Some of us 
may persist in the view that such indications are vis- 
ionary, but capitalists are performing acts that surely 
mean something else. They are purchasing water- 
rights and privileges in the Central West, laying out 
great territory for street-railway lines, and organizing 
companies to utilize the water-power in connection 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



35 



with electrical force. One New York company has 
been capitalized at $5,000,000 for the purpose of devel- 
opment in this latter field. There are many others 
of capital ranging from a half to three millions. The 
marvellous progress made in the application of electri- 
cal energy in the last few years will have a deal to do 
with this development as a whole. When it was made 
possible that the power of water fall at a certain town 
could be employed to drive machines in towns miles 
away, a wonderful enterprise was established. 

It is not unreasonable to assume that the time is com- 
ing when the ocean steamship will not stop at Boston 
or New York to be loaded for her return trip. She will 
keep right on until she enters Chicago harbor ! This 
is not so much of an improbability and impossibility as 
it might at first thought appear. It is coming to be a 
necessity. The people of the West are demanding it, 
and some day the National Congress, or a great private 
enterprise, will make an attempt to have this thing a 
reality. At present, the steamer which, starts from 
Duluth, or Chicago, comes to a stop at Buffalo. Niag- 
ara Falls interposes, and Lake Ontario is very much 
lower than Lake Erie. For a short time, what is called 
the " Deep Waterways Commission " has been in exis- 
tence. This commission was established by Congress, 
and President Cleveland appointed distinguished engi- 
neers and experts as members. Their object is to in- 
vestigate and arouse interest concerning the best means 
for creating a steamship route from the Lakes to the 
Ocean. Several lines are proposed, but that which has 
met with most favor is that necessitating the building 
of locks not far from Niagara, by means of which ships 
can be lowered into Lake Ontario. Thence, taking 
the St. Lawrence river to a point about opposite the 



36 MR. EAGLE'S U S. A. 

Ottawa river. From here, by canal, to the Richelieu 
river, thence through a canal to Lake Champlain, and 
on, by canal, to the meeting of the Hudson, at Water- 
ford, New York. This is a tremendous project. All 
kinds of estimates as to cost and time for completing 
such a course have appeared, but perhaps the engineers 
associated with the commission are most competent to 
speak in the matter. They figure that the Government 
could finish it in twenty years, at the expenditure of fif- 
teen millions a year. The benefits of such a public 
work can hardly be appreciated without a long and 
careful study of existing commercial needs. Yet, when 
it is considered that our annual freight bill is over 
$800,000,000 a year, and that the bulk of this consists 
of material coming from the West, and that at present 
it costs in the shipment of wheat, for instance, twice 
to nearly thrice as rnuch to get a thousand bushels from 
South Dakota to Liverpool as from the Argentine Re- 
public, a plan which would reduce freight rates to a 
third those existing is surely worth our attention. 
When such a work as this shall have been commenced, 
it will be found that the accepted pre-eminence of the 
railroads will not be so secure. In all probability, 
this route will some day be in use. The Government 
could afford to construct it, by taking time, and the 
people of the middle and far West will continue to agi- 
tate the subject until, in all likelihood, the enterprise 
is begun. In the event of our country being in a state 
of belligerency, this route from the sea-coast to Lake 
Superior would enable our largest war-ships to reach 
Chicago just as safely as Boston. It is a project that 
is engrossing the deepest thought from our ablest en- 
gineers and scientists — and well it may. 

I thought of some of these things that the future 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



37 



would bring to us as I drove through the town of Mar- 
seilles, the first that lay in the way of our journey. I 
happen to know that what I have said about capitalists 
making their plans in anticipation of the opportunities 
resulting from the Drainage Channel, is true of this 
place. Marseilles likes to call itself "The Lowell of 
the West," and, in a way, is rather justified in doing 
so. The water power here now is over 9,000 H. P. 
By the building of a dam 900 feet long, there can be 
26,000 H. P. when the Drainage Channel is flowing its 
full capacity. There are corn-sheller, paper and other 
mills already in operation, representing a capital of 
above $2,000,000. I am acquainted with one resident 
of the town who has been, for some time, engaged in 
taking the requisite legal steps to put himself in pos- 
session of property of commanding water power advan- 
tage, and he is most certainly destined to be a million- 
aire. Few of his neighbors suspect what he is at, but 
they will ascertain in due time. 

The largest straw-board mill in the world is located 
in Marseilles. The four paper mills here can put out, 
if necessary, nearly fifty tons of finished paper daily, 
and of grades ranging from heavy packing board to 
fine tissue. The making of paper involves an expert 
knowledge of the art of cooking, but it is not exactly 
the kind of information a hotel chef commands. 

The first step in paper-making takes place when the 
rags or straw is dumped into the "cooker." This is 
an iron globe of about fourteen feet in diameter, re- 
volving on an axle, and filled with steam. The mix- 
ture of rags or straw, or often both, is made in accord 
ance with the quality of paper desired to be manufac- 
tured. When the contents of the vat assume the re- 
quired consistency, the "pulp" is turned into new vats 



38 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



where it is "washed." From there, it goes through 
many other tanks and tubs, all the while becoming 
cleaner and finer. Then, revolving cylinders, contain- 
ing many knives, chop the soup-like mess. The pulp 
is at last so fine and so sticky that it will adhere in an 
even layer upon the outside of a hollow roller, covered 
with a sort of wire netting. From this the pulp leaves 
in a layer about an eighth of an inch thick, and, passing 
under drying and pressing rollers, lastly comes out from 
under a set of polishing tubes as the finished product. 

As we drove onward that Sunday afternoon, I 
thought of the many natural products that are strewn 
through this valley, the bulk of them at present practi- 
cally unused. An inexhaustible supply of the finest 
sand-rock is to be found here. One concern at Ottawa 
is doing a business consisting exclusively of mining and 
shipping of this sand. When the natural gas fields of 
Indiana give out, as they eventually must, the glass 
industry will be centered in this valley. Supplies and 
readiness of reaching the central market, Chicago, be- 
ing the reasons. What better location for the beet 
sugar factory? It will be seen here, and soon too. In 
fact, certain promoters are interested in the matter 
already. The manufacture of acid phosphate in this 
section is just being started, the phosphate rock being 
shipped from the South. The making of cellulose from 
corn stalks is another industry. 

Many of the ledges that skirt the Illinois river con- 
tain as good a cjuality of building stone as could be de- 
sired, It will all be called for one of these days. Up 
at Joliet they have been quarrying stone for a number 
of years. We all know how the whole country laughed 
when Chicago put up its first " sky-scraper." Yet we 
find her following with many others, and so is New 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



39 



York, and Boston even. The valley is making many 
of the brick that go into these structures. One factory 
here in the Illinois region is the largest of its kind in 
the world. It has shipped material for public buildings 
clear into Mexico. The Western builder, after being 
■ ridiculed for his daring structural contrivances, is actu- 
ally forcing his way into New England. Stone quarried 
at Joliet is being used in buildings put up in New York 
and Boston. Why shall not the shoe shop be set 
up here? If they can put up shoe factories in Chicago 
and take away Eastern trade (as they are doing), why 
are not more of these institutions to spring up along 
the Illinois when the Drainage Channel brings the water 
power? Do we know that it is a fact that a well known 
citizen of Worcester, Mass., had, a few years ago, to 
sell his big shoe factory because the Chicago shoe men 
could underbid him? Do we know that in the shoe 
town of Brockton, Mass., the effect of Chicago compe- 
tition has been felt to such an extent that to it is attrib- 
uted the principal cause of the former's decline in this 
industry? The same thing is true of other New England 
shoe towns. 

With acres of the finest building and pottery clays, 
a supply of soft coal so extensive that in many locali- 
ties an area six miles square will produce 5,120,000 
tons, with the water-power spoken of, with fullest ship- 
ping facilities, with cotton almost within bounds, is it 
dreaming, or exaggerating, to assert the prophecy that 
the manufacturing center is to be created within this 
Middle Western district? 



THE FRIEND OF THE WHITE MAN. 

IN the old cemetery at Morris, there is a lonely, 
sunken grave. The only mark over it is a little 
gray slab, and yet reverent townspeople and visit- 
ing strangers come to look at this depression among 
the wild flowers, and feel that the spot is more impor- 
tant than any in the town of Morris or its vicinity. 

The reason is, that here lie the remains of Chief 
Shabbona, known to Illinois as "the friend of the white 
man." 

The pioneer history of the Union does not furnish a 
more remarkable instance of Indian fidelity to the 
whites than in Shabbona's friendship and services to 
the early settlers of the Illinois Valley. His warnings 
of danger as he went from post to post, and from set- 
tlement to settlement, during the harassing days of the 
Winnebago, Sauk, and Black Hawk wars, saved the 
lives of scores of pioneers. Old men are living to-day 
in the valley who will tell you of how Shabbona kept 
them from probable massacre. The Old Settlers' asso- 
ciations of Grundy and LaSalle counties have been at 
work for some time raising funds toward the building 
of a suitable monument for the grave of Shabbona, and 
an effort is being made to have the legislature make an 
appropriation for the project. > 

Shabbona was born in Canada, about 1775. He \v:i-; 
of the Ottawa, the leading tribe of the great Algon 







•SHABBOVA 



FROM AN OLP WOOD CUT. 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



41 



quin family, which embraces the Winnebagoes, Chip- 
pewas, and Pottawatomies. Shabbona fought with 
Tecumseh at the Thames, in 1813, but after this he 
forsook the British and remained ever after friendly to 
the United States. When the Winnebago war broke 
out he visited every village of the Pottawatomies, and 
by his influence prevented them from taking part in 
the struggle. He went to Big Foot's village at Geneva 
Lake to pacify the warriors, as it was believed that the 
chief's followers were about to descend upon the 
whites. Here he was taken prisoner, and came near 
being killed, but finally made his escape. Ever after- 
ward the Indians hated him. Just before the Black 
Hawk war Shabbona met his people in council, and 
succeeded in keeping them from joining the Sacs and 
Foxes. Black Hawk later declared that had it not 
been for this, the entire Pottawatomie nation would 
have united with him, and he could have maintained 
the war for years. Thereafter, it was Shabbona who 
protected the settlers from marauding Indians. Be- 
cause of his aid to the whites Shabbona's race set a 
price upon his head. Repeated efforts were made to 
kill him, and his life was that of a hunted animal. The 
Indians killed Pypeogee, his soij, and Pyps, his 
nephew. 

For his services, the Government gave Shabbona a 
tract of land, but, he having left it for a time to go on 
a visit west to his people, speculators seized his prop- 
erty and sold it. When the old chief came back, and 
found what had been done, his heart was broken. He 
wandered along the Illinois, and at each cabin door 
uttered the plaintive appeal, " Shabbona has nothing 
now." There was too great love for the aged hero, 
however, in the breasts of the settlers who had felt 



42 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



the terrors of the Indian wars, to see him in want, and 
it was not long until Shabbona was given a piece of 
land in Grundy county. Neat buildings were erected 
upon this, and here he lived until his death, in 1859. 
It is the verdict of the old residents of the valley that 
that there was one "good Indian," and his name was 
Shabbona. 

An anecdote of Shabbona shows that the Indian may 
not be as devoid of humor as is supposed. It seems 
that a number of Shabbona's relatives from Canada 
were visiting him, making quite a retinue as he jour- 
neyed about. The chief and his party were in Ot- 
tawa, and desired to cross the Illinois-river-bridge. 
The structure was then a toll bridge, but instructions 
had been given by George Walker, the sheriff, that 
Shabbona and his train should be permitted to travel 
over as much as they pleased and without pay. A new 
gate-keeper was in charge on the day in question, who 
Icnew not of this arrangement, and, on Shabbona's 
:;oming up, refused to let him by unless a fee was 
forthcoming. The chief was deeply offended, but 
word was finally got to Walker, and Shabbona, with 
his courtiers and outriders, started ahead. The band 
marched " Indian file," with stately step, about eight 
hundred feet, to the south end of the bridge, when a 
loud "Waugh!" was heard. Back the solemn array 
came, until near the gate-keeper's office. With stolid 
austerity, Shabbona looked at the official, gave another 
gutteral "Waugh! "and once more he and his cav- 
alcade swung around to recross. To show its absolute 
independence, this stoical procession paraded back 
and forth until sun down! 



PIASA: THE INDIAN'S DEVIL 



PERRY ARMSTRONG, of Morris, is one of the 
oldest of Illinois's old settlers, Grundy county 
having been his home since 1843. In early days, 
he joined with the other pioneers in helping to defend 
this region against Indian depredation, and served for 
some time in the Black Hawk war and other border 
out-breaks of that period. His earlier experiences 
naturally made him more or less familiar with the life 
and customs of the Indians, and, a few years ago, he 
published an exhaustive history of the Sauk war. Since 
the days when the war-whoop was an actuality, Mr. 
Armstrong has occupied much of his spare time in 
study of Indian traditions and forms of religious wor- 
ship. If he be correct in the many striking conclu- 
sions he has drawn from his investigations, the red man 
established himself at a much earlier stage of the 
world than has been imagined. Mr. Armstrong believes 
the Indian was on earth at a time when some of the 
monstrous saurians, placed by scientists at the Tertiary 
Period, were in existence! 

Concerning this subject, the old man said to me: 
"Pictures seem, with all peoples, in their elementary 
state, to have been the earliest form of manual expres- 
sion. It will be found, in almost every instance, that 
the picture, or drawing, ante-dates the attempt at letter 
language. The common impulse of early man appears 



44 MR EAGLE'S U S. A. 

to have been to represent his thoughts by the carving 
of a figure, rather than the grouping of characters or 
letters. Particularly was this true of the Indian, and 
if the tracings upon the rocks spread over this conti- 
nent could be accurately interpreted, a vast amount of 
history would be obtained. In no portion of the 
United States, however, are there more mysterious me- 
morials than the petroglyphs of the Mississippi valley, 
and of these the interest centering about the pictures 
of a monster known among the Indians as the ' Piasa ' 
is the most satisfying in the way of the curious and 
superstitious. 

"The first mention by a white man of seeing the 
representations of this frightful creature, the 'Piasa,' 
is made by Father Marquette. He says, in the account 
of his voyaging: 

" ' Passing the mouth of the Illinois, we soon came 
into the shadow of a tall promontory, and with great 
astonishment beheld the pictures of two monsters 
painted upon its lofty limestone front. Each of these 
awful figures had the face of a man, the horns of a 
deer, the head of a tiger, and a tail of a fish so long that 
it passed around the body, over the head, and between 
the legs. It was an object of Indian worship, and 
greatly impressed me with the necessity of substituting 
for this monstrous idolatry, the true God.' 

" Now it is probable that ,the petroglyphs seen by 
Marquette were the two that were seen by people who 
first settled in the region along the Illinois, even as 
late as the '30's. There were, at that date, two huge 
figures painted and incised upon a layer of bluish-gray 
sand-stone overlying a bed of limestone on the north 
bank of the Mississippi at Alton. These pictures were 
upon the side of the bluff, about eight feet above the 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 45 

surface of the water. The drawings were about equal 
in size, and measured each some thirty feet in length 
by twelve in width. In the painting of these monsters 
but three colors were used: red, emblematical of war 
and vengeance; black, of death and despair; and green, 
•expressive of hope and triumph in the land of dreams, 
or ' the happy hunting grounds. ' The exact location 
of these pictures was at about the spot where the State 
prison at Alton now stands, and some of the rock occu- 
pied with this strange tracery was quarried by the con- 
victs in 1856. 

"These monsters were known to the Indians as the 
'Piasa,' or 'the Bird that Devours Man,' and were the 
Indian representation of the Devil. For some reason, 
Marquette fails to mention the fact of these figures 
having enormous wings and great claws after the fash- 
ion of an eagle, but such was undoubtedly the case, as 
I have talked with early settlers who had seen them. 
The Mississippi was the great highway of travel for the 
Indians, and that forced them, against their will, to 
pass these paintings. While going near them, the In- 
dians used to offer up incense and sacrifices. Suppli- 
cations for forgiveness and mercy were also made 
whenever a party of savages went by these great pic- 
tures. 

" Now, did such a beast as that drawn on this cliff 
ever exist? 

" The Indian traditions were all to the point that 
certain of the tribes had once seen this monster, and 
that he had carried away countless of the number to be 
devoured. The Illini had a tradition to the effect thar, 
after the dread Piasa had committed awful depredations 
among the tribe, a chief, Ouatogo by name, went out 
to offer himself as prey for the beast, on the chance 



^6 MR EAGLE'S U: S, A. 

that his warriors, lying in wait, might, with poisoned 
arrows, kill the monster as it made its descent upon 
the chief. The story was that the plan was successful, 
the beast being destroyed before it had reached Oua- 
togo. A Miami tradition tells of a great battle being 
fought so mewhere near the present town of Alton, 
during which the Piasa came out of its cave in the rock 
along the Mississippi, and carried off two of the con- 
tending chiefs. The famous chief, Black Hawk, told 
of his people having seen the Piasa, ' with wings like a 
swan, only ten times larger.' There are traditions 
among all the Indians who had their home in the Mis- 
sissippi valley, that claim that this Piasa once inhabited 
a cave near where the Illinois river joins the Missis- 
sippi. To look up this question of the cave. Professor 
John Russell, of Jersey county, this State, and best 
known, popularly, as the author of the poem, 'The 
Worm of the Still,' set out, in March, 1848, for a trip 
to Alton. Professor Russell's investigations, to use 
his own words, were as follows: 

"'I visited the bluffs below the Illinois, and near 
the point where the Piasa was pictured. My curiosity 
was directed toward examining a cave connected with 
the tradition of the Piasa, as being one of the places 
where the monster deposited his victims. Preceded 
by an intelligent guide who had a spade, I set out upon 
my excursion. The cave was extremely difficult of ac- 
cess, and at one point in our progress, I stood at an 
elevation of one hundred and fifty feet on the face of 
the perpendicular bluff, with barely room to sustain 
one foot. The unbroken wall towered above me, while 
below was the river. After a long and perilous clam- 
bering, we reached the cave, which was about fifty feet 
above the surface of the river. By the aid of a long 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



47 



pole placed on a projecting rock and the upper end 
touching the mouth of the cave, we succeeded in reach- 
ing it. The roof of the cavern was vaulted, the top of 
which was hardly less than twenty feet high. The 
shape of the cave was irregular, but, so far as I could 
•judge, the bottom would average twenty by thirty feet. 
The floor of the cave was one mass of human bones. 
Skulls and other bones were mingled in the utmost con- 
fusion. To what depth they extended, I am unable to 
decide, but we dug to the depth of three or four feet 
in every quarter of the cavern, and still we found only 
bones. The remains of thousands must have been de- 
posited there. How, and by whom, it is impossible to 
know.' 

" A peculiar fact is to be noticed in connection with 
this tradition about the Piasa, and it is that the pictures 
and descriptions all show correspondence, in almost 
every particular, with a creature of the Mesozoic age, 
called the ' Ramphorhyncus. ' The Piasa and the 
Ramphorhyncus are identical, so far as description 
could possibly indicate. Certainly, this similarity is 
too technical and remarkable to be a mere coincidence. 
In view of this, there is only one conclusion I can 
make, and that is, that the Indian surelj'' must have 
been on earth at the time the remaining Ramphorhyn- 
cus existed ! " 



AN OPEN AIR BREAKFAST. 



/^ O EAT out doors ! " — I believe the following of 

I y that advice would cure more dyspepsia and kin- 
dred ills than all the physicians' prescriptions. 
We, all of us, are incapable of getting completely away 
from earth, no matter how desperately we attempt the 
hot-house existence. Who is the mortal that likes not 
the sight of dew-silvered grass? Who can say, truth- 
fully, he cares not to look over a great field of corn, on 
a summer morning, and see the blades rippling in the 
mild breeze like the ocean on a calm day? Who is he, 
who feels not a new courage, a new vigor, a truer deter- 
mination to make the best of his station, as he gets 
back to scenes such as these? 

I mused like this, one morning, as we halted by a 
hedge for the purpose of preparing breakfast. We had 
set out from Joliet early that we might enjoy the cool 
portion of the day as fully as possible. It was about 
six-thirty. The dew sparkled on the luxuriant grass 
that lined the roadway, as innumerable tiny diamonds. 
I got out of the carriage and loosened Kit's check- 
rein, that she might have a lunch as well as ourselves. 
As she dove to the feast beneath her, and began to rip 
up the grass, with my hand resting on the shaft, I 
paused to enjoy the prospect. 

We were on high ground. Below, at some distance, 
lay Joliet with its scores of great chimneys, factories, 



MR. EAGLE'S U, S, A. 



49 



columns of heavy soft-coal smoke, numberless switch 
engines, scurrying around the yards, like so many 
tireless demons, puffing, and clanging, and whistling. 
The steady boom-boom, boom-boom of the rolling 
mills, for which this town is so noted, beat upon the 
air with a weird rhythm, at one moment, rather musical, 
and the next, sounding like the ponderous bellowing 
of some Titan. Nearer, and all about, were the roll- 
ing fields of corn, whose broad green blades gently 
rising and falling were beating in regular rustling 
harmony to this half concealed anthem nature was 
providing for us. To me, that field of corn was 
beaittiful, inspiring, satisfying. I am aware that it is 
conventionally assumed that for a scene of grandeur 
and soul-contentment, one must be perched upon a 
lofty mountain, where he can survey, far below, the 
huts of a half-starved peasantry; where he can see the 
eternal sublimity contrasted with want and loneliness. 
Not for me. I loved to look over that great area of 
growing corn, and know that it meant prosperity, 
happiness, and that its heavy, golden ears were soon 
to send the boys and girls to the High Schools, Acad- 
emies and Colleges. I revelled in the thought of these 
things as I siw those wide blades create the undulation, 
that mild morning, like the dreamy vista of a placid 
sea. Then there were the pastures, upon whose hil- 
locky, deep-velvet surface the rich-blooded Holsteins 
were peacefully feeding. How delicious the air was! 
I threw back my shoulders and drew in deep breaths. 
A brown thrush, startled at our presence, darted out 
of the hedge across the road, perched nervously for a 
moment on one of the thorny boughs, and eyed us 
with suspicion. Then, uncertain, retreated to the 
thicket. Soon, I heard a quail, with his plaintively 



50 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

cheery whistle. Then, the slow solemn warning of a 
crow from among the woods along the DesPlaines river 
which, not far below, glinted in the sun. A fellow in 
a neighboring field, as he lazily drove out his horses, 
to begin the day's work, felt the care-free, joyous 
inspiration that I did, for he was whistling the rollick- 
ing, flamboyant notes of "Old Dan Tucker." 

I began to poke around among our traps in the boxes 
fastened underneath the phaeton, much after the 
fashion of the "prairie schooner," and soon found my 
little alcohol stove. This contrivance was originally a 
brazier's lamp, of brass, and burned by means of a 
central wick, making a most intense heat, and was far 
superior to the much advertised " pocket stoves," and 
the like. I had fastened the thing on a small piece of 
board and arranged a couple of bent wire standards so 
that they would support a tin cup just above the flame. 
A table-spoonful of ground coffee and a little water, 
the cup covered, and a match applied to the wick, I 
set the apparatus down in the grass and in the shelter 
of a fence board, that the breeze might not extinguish 
the flame. In about four minutes, the "brew" was 
ready. I stirred in a little sugar and raised the steam- 
ing essence to my lips. Never did a cup of coffee 
taste so good! There, in the open air, with the invig- 
orating breezes fanning the landscape, this coft'ee, 
without cream, possessed an aroma, an intoxicating 
something that ho chef in a stuffy grill room could 
approach. I next brought out a bit of rusty tin which 
I had moulded into a sort of platter about four inches 
square, and set it over the little lamp. Presently, 1 
had a piece of steak done "to the Queeij's taste." 

Mother, woman like, couldn't tear herself wholly 
loose from the ways o^ civilization, and had whipped 



51 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



out from somewhere a white napkin and spread it in 
her lap. Upon this, with all the method of an old 
maid, she'd carefully laid the pie and sandwiches. 
She had brought along a glass tumbler and a bottle of 
milk. Her coffee was fixed up in the glass and hon- 
ored with milk, and a pinch of sugar, just as orderly 
sir, as if she had been preparing breakfast quietly in 
her kitchen. I seized a fistful of supplies and, with 
my tin of coffee, crawled to a soft bunch of grass by 
the fence and proceeded to indulge in a feast I shall 
not soon forget, while mother ate in dignified state in 
the phaeton, and alternately varied from exclaiming, 
"How good that coffee is!" to pestering me, every 
other minute, to know if I "didn't want a little milk 
in that cup? " 



IN NORTHERN INDIANA. 

A TOWN of eight thousand inhabitants and a three- 
hundred thousand dollar Court House! 

We had stopped over night at the home of an 
aged minister. A more affectionate couple than he and 
his devoted wife you never saw. The husband had been 
preacher for forty years, and was one of those who had 
got into the pulpit only because he had felt an over- 
powering call. He had been a blacksmith. His sim- 
ple earnestness had made his life a success in spite of 
the fact that he had no college education, and now, the 
evening of his existence, he, with his adoring spouse, 
was passing peacefully in this little home, surrounded 
by flower beds, green fields, and kind neighbors. 
Their wants were few. A garden supplied them with 
fruits and vegetables. A venerable horse and phaeton 
sufficed to convey them about on their little journeys 
to near-by friends. Frequent "donations" by former 
parishioners kept them with all the ready money 
needed. " So," as the old man said, with a twinkle in 
his happy gray eyes, "the Lord has treated us first- 
rate, leastways full as well as we deserve, I reckon." 
Rag carpets covered the floors of their modest dwel- 
ling. The library consisted mainly of Baptist records 
and hymn books. For papers, there were the Toledo 
Blade and a county weekly. And yet, it was manifest 
that here was a man who had m.ade his life effec- 
tive; who had been a real, helpful force in the world. 



4- 




♦ -%f ^ \ 




.■>- 



LA PORTE COUNTY COURT HOUSE. 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 53 

He had done practical good in the days when he had 
had strength. In the waning, his mind was keen, and 
he was well informed as to affairs in general. He had 
plenty to eat, and his soul was at peace. What more 
could he wish? 

The morning was cool, the road gravelled, and as 
superb a drive-way as mortal could wish. We had left 
the old minister at his home near Door Village, and by 
ten o'clock were on the main street in La Porte. This 
was an avenue broad as a Chicago boulevard. Big 
business blocks lined either side, and the people on the 
walks were bustling and stylish. Handsome carriages 
were drawn up at the curb. Here was a miniature city 
of elegance. We approached a magnificent structure 
of stone. A tall tower of modern architecture arose 
from its center. Its windows were of plate glass. 

" By George, mother!" I exclaimed. "I want to 
know about that building," and we drove into a side 
street, where I got out to look around. 

The building was the La Porte County Court House, 
erected about three years ago at a cost of $300,000, 
and probably the finest institution of its kind in the 
United States, taking into consideration the population 
of the town. A citizen was only too glad to show me 
through this structure, which is the pride of the richest 
county in upper Indiana, and it was a treat, interest- 
ing indeed. 

The exterior constructive material is Portage red 
sandstone; the walls, tower, and trimmings being ar- 
ranged on the richly massive plan. There is nothing 
of the "curli-que. " The heavy, castellated style is 
the idea. The structure is 144 feet wide and 114 deep. 
From ground to roof is 70 feet, and the tower is 170 
feet in height. 



54 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

The principal portions of the interior are finished in 
qua'rter-sawn oak. On the first floor are some novel 
apartments called " Farmers' Rooms." These are set 
apart exclusively for the use of the agriculturist, and 
are invitingly fitted up with chairs, desks, and lounges, 
so that when the sunburned tiller of the soil comes to 
town with his family, he has as pleasant a club room as 
could be planned. One of the larger rooms is used for 
"grange" meetings and the like. This arrangement 
is a decided innovation, and one that should be copied 
all over the country. 

The stairways arc magnificent, with heavy carved 
balustrades; the ceilings expensively and artistically 
frescoed, and the general ornamentation suggests great 
outlay. On the second floor are the offices of the va- 
rious county departments. The court rooms are on 
the third floor, and are something palatial. In the 
Criminal, one of the stained glass windows cost $2,000. 
It is a great picture of Justice, with the fateful scales. 
As I stood within this apartment and surveyed the 
thick, red Wilton carpet, the massive, oaken Judge's 
desk, the intricately wrought chandeliers, and the lofty 
ceiling, I could appreciate the force of the story my 
guide told me of a malefactor's complaint to his law- 
yer, a man locally considered to be not over burdened 
with legal knowledge. 

The prisoner had just listened to the verdict of the 
jury pronouncing him guilty on the charge of chicken 
stealing. The chap was one of those listless, unim- 
pressionable sort of fLillows, and simply stared vacantly 
over the room. His cy.^. finally alighted on the stained 
glass window, and he whispered to his lawyer, "Say, 
\vhut's thet there figger over'n the winder 1 " 

"Why, that's Justice. Justice with the scales." 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 55 

"Justice! Justice!" mused the culprit feelingly. 
*' Wall, I'll be darned 'f I seen much on't in this yere 
trial o' mine! " 

"Well, well now," answered his cold blooded shy- 
ster. "Don't worry. The jury has gone against us, 
but you have one consolation. You have been tried 
in the finest courtroom in the State of Indiana! " 

La Porte has another claim to distinction, aside from 
its Court House, namely, the exceptional street pav- 
ing. Indeed, in this respect it is said to be one of the 
best appointed towns in the country. All the principal 
streets are laid with brick, and so evenly has the work 
been done that the avenues are very like sanded floors. 

Good roads and fine farms were the rule all through 
this section of Indiana. The citizens of Valparaiso, 
1-a Porte, South Bend, and Elkhart, love to boast of 
their road, system, and it is with perfect right that they 
can do so. Carefully graded, macadamized, and well 
kept, the tourist blesses the highway commissioners as 
he passes over these thoroughfares. Northern Indiana 
is a garden spot. The whole region is set with 
scores of tiny lakes that make alluring resorts for Chi- 
cagoans during the hot weather. Eagle Lake, near 
La Porte, is one of the most popular, and is a great 
place for the meeting of Summer Educational associa- 
tions, camping parties, and similar affairs. Farming 
is carried on in this section by men of intelligence who 
discovered, some time ago, that it is not the number 
of acres that makes the farm, but the development 
In this respect, they are much ahead of Illinois, where 
so many renters are struggling along in trie effort to 
carry i6o, or 200, acres, and thus cannot help letting 
their fields get full of cockle burrs, and their pastures 
run to thistles. We found broad areas of corn in which 



^6 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

scarcely a weed was to be seen ; farm houses that 
looked pleasing in their white paint, and manifest thrift, 
and seeming comfort everywhere. Frequently, the log 
house met our view. The identical building in which 
the pioneer, who might be the owner of hundreds of 
acres, once had his home. These structures were now 
used mostly for tool houses. .As one looked at these 
decaying log affairs, standing as so many solemn mon- 
uments of the past, he could not help thinking of what 
factors they had been in the making of the West ! How 
genuine must have been the feeling that animated an 
old farmer near Valparaiso, at whose house we stopped 
to get a drink of water. The old fellow was sitting on 
his porch basking in the afternoon sun. I asked him 
about the hut that stood a little back from the road. 
" Yes," he said, " thet wuz ther palace fer wife an' me 
when we come hyar, 'n I reckon I shan't let it be 
tore ter pieces as long's we lives," and he looked off 
toward the object in a way that showed it was one of 
his treasures. 

Northern Indiana is where most of the supply of that 
herb of childhood's days — peppermint — is sent out. 
This industry was, once, almost exclusively confined 
to Massachusetts, but, now, this locality has control. 
In St. Joseph, La Porte, Elkhart, and LaGrange coun- 
ties, there are hundreds of acres of peppermint marsh. 
The same is true of several of the counties just over 
the Michigan line. Peppermint requires a warm, 
rich soil. In its cultivation, the method is as follows: 
l"he ground is laid off in furrows, perhaps twenty 
inches apart, and in these the plants are set out. 
Much attention has to be expended in keeping the 
plants free from weeds. The harvest commences 
in August, and lasts until October. The first crop is 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 57 

the best ; at the end of the fourth year the crop has to be 
plowed up. A new crop springs up from the old roots, 
but a field rarely endures over six years. In harvest- 
ing, an old-fashioned "cradle" is used, much resem- 
bling the wheat "cradle" of New England. After 
cutting, the mint, is raked into heaps, and left to wilt 
for about fifteen hours before it goes to the vat to be 
distilled. The mint is packed into the vat by treading 
until the receptacle is full. The vat is then tightly 
closed, and steam turned on, entering at the bottom. 
A pipe at the top of the tank connects with a " worm," 
into which the volatfUzed oil enters and is condensed. 

While in Elkhart, I strolled into the office of a local 
paper. The editor was soberly "sticking type," and, 
after a few minutes' conversation, extended the free- 
dom of the office, and went back to his case. I sat 
down at his desk, and while the type busily clicked, 
and the flies as busily hummed, began to poke around 
among the bushel or so of "exchanges" that lay tum- 
bling about in dusty heaps on the floor. In glancing 
over a sheet published in the Southern part of the 
State, I came across the following description of a 
neighborhood incident. It shows that your Hoosier 
editor may have some ability at "realism" as well as 
his metropolitan brother: 

"An awful accident befell Miss Gertrude VanBloke 
of Litchfield last Sunday morning. She was curling 
her hair for church when she accidentally dropped the 
curling iron down her neck. We don't mean down her 
neck exactly, it was more down her back, and yet that 
isn't correct. She dropped it down between her 
clothing and the frog of her neck, and it went sizzling 
and frying down, down, down, until it was beyond her 
reach. The scene wliich t'ullowed was awful! Ger- 



58 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



trude jumped up and down like a Comanche Indian at 
a snake dance and hollered, ' Fire! Fire! Ouch! Hell- 
inaminute! Police! Murder.' Jementiy! Wow!' using 
many expressions that seemed to indicate that she was 
in pain. In the meantime, the house was filled with 
the odor of baked back bone and fried tenderloin. 

"Her parents came rushing into her room and found 
Gertrude executing the coonjine and thought she was 
crazy. The old man dashed a pitcher of water over 
her and her mother threw a quilt over her to put her 
out. But the curling iron was still getting in its work 
and rapidly burning its way into her left kidney. 
Gertrude tried to tell them what the matter was but 
she could only gasp, 'Take it out! You dod-blasted 
old idiots, take it out! Take it out!' But her fright- 
ened parents didn't know what to do, and got a rope 
and tied her. The curling iron then turned over and 
commenced to cook her floating ribs and baked the 
skin from the vertebrae. She kicked and squalled like 
a camp meeting of cats, and the neighbors came 
running in. 

" Finally she managed to tell them what the matter 
was, and her mother cut open her corset with a case 
knife, and the curling iron fell out, covered with cuti- 
cle and smelling like hog killing time. Since then, 
Gertie wears her lumbar region done up in linseed oil 
poult'ces and sleeps on her frontispiece. The doctor 
says her back looks like a crazy quilt, or the map of 
Cuba after a revolution. He says she had a narrow 
escape. The burns extended entirely over the withers 
and the sebaceous follicles. ' The jib boom of the 
pylorous, he says is badly scarified, while the base of 
her dorsal fin is fricasseed so seriously that amputation 
may be necessary." 



YE BIBLIOPOLO EXPERTO. 



TOWARDS evening, on August 4th, we arrived in 
Bronson, Michigan, a little town of eight hun- 
dred. I happened to glance across the street and 
saw a building that at once enlisted my attention. I^ 
was of white, enameled brick, with the joints painted 
blue, while all colors, and combinations of red, green, 
gold and yellow, were used in decorating cornice and 
window casing. But the striking thing was the signs 
that covered the structure from top to curb. I began 
to decipher them. Watching the red pennant that 
flaunted from the cupola, I finally made out that it 
bore these letters: " B-i-b-1-i-o-p-o-l-o E-x-p-e-r-t-o. " 
Below, in small characters, at the base of the cupola, 
was the legend, "J. Francis Ruggles. " Over the 
upper windows were the words, "Lux. Lux." Beneath 
was a string of letters reaching from the east side of the 
bay window across the top of the door, half way over 
the west window. By concentrating my attention upon 
them, and carefully repeating aloud each syllable, I 
read again: "YE BIBLIOPOLO EXPERTO." The 
windows bore the name "J. Francis Ruggles," as did 
also the curtains. A large stone set in the wall at the 
southeast corner had chiselled in its face, "Curioso. 
J. Francis Ruggles. Bookery." That last word had 
some practical suggestion. Inspecting the structure 
still more closely, I noticed that about the cornices 



6o MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

and trimmings were odd designs of swords, torches, 
and griffins. 

If ever an institution bespoke individuality this did. 

While I was out at the hotel stable putting away my 
horse, I asked the attendant who " J. Francis Ruggles" 
was. " Darndest cuss you ever seel " he replied, and 
stopped short. As this information did not seem much 
more definite than some of the signs I had been study- 
ing, I pressed for a little further enlightenment. "Just 
git at the critter, 'n talk to him. That's the bes' way 
to git the facks o' his case." " But where does he 
stay?" "Well, he gits his meals at the hotel yere, 'n 
roosts in thet there coop o' his'n 'cross the street. He's 
got a cheer out'n the hotel bar-room he sets in that 
no body else aint 'lowed to tech. He's good natured 
'nough, 'n ef ye was ter shy 'round there now, I reckon 
ye'd find him." 

I walked around presently to the hotel entrance. 
Within, sure enough, with its back against the clerk's 
desk, was the chair. Its top was embellished in gold 
letters, "J. Francis Ruggles." A small, pale, little 
man, dressed in black, came quietly along and sat down 
in the chair. I backed off and pretended to be study- 
ing a railroad map, but was really, of course, looking 
over Mr. Ruggles. The worthy gentleman was pick- 
ing his teeth and, apparently, at peace with the world. 
He wore a brown straw hat having a brim, perhaps, 
half an inch wide. He was smooth shaven, with the 
exception of a tiny bunch of carefully-nurtured chin 
whiskers. His clothing wijs absolutely spotless, and 
seemed as if it were worn with constant brushing. His 
black string tie was not made up after the coventional 
fashion. The ends, instead of being secured in a bow. 
were brought across each other, and, holes having been 




THE ODUI lOKH'.M 



MR. EAGLK'S U. S A. 6l 

punched at the point of crossing, the cravat was fas- 
tened on to the collar button The indications were 
that here at last was the individual who had solved the 
problem of generations — keeping the necktie in place. 
His boots had split leather tops, and were polished in 
the economical, spit-but-once-in-the-box style. This 
man's general demeanor suggested a meek and humble 
"follower of the cloth." 

After a while, I walked over to Mr. Ruggles and 
introduced myself. His greeting was cordial, and we 
were soon engaged in pleasant conversation. "Some 
of those signs on your building are rather unusual," I 
ventured. 

"Yes," he said, "I know when I had them put up, I 
agreed to pay the painter so much for the lump job, 
and he come near striking on me when his work was 
about half done, as he said he didn't contract to paint 
words that would reach clear down into Indiana." He 
then went back to tell me of what a time he had had 
putting up the structure. "When I began, I thought 
it would be good policy to take note of whatever sug- 
gestions folks wanted to make, as I might get some 
valuable hints, but the advisory business spread like 
the measles, and when it got so I was receiving forty 
or fifty pointers a morning, I felt that things were get- 
ting too promiscuous. I pronounced a ukase to the 
effect that / was erecting this building and not the 
town^ as some folks seemed to think." On this subject 
of the "building," Mr. Ruggles was an enthusiast, 
and it was manifest that the institution was the pride of 
his life. On the matter of books, to which we finally 
drifted, I found him possessed of really remarkable in- 
formation, and regarding rare editions, and curious 
volumes, his knowledge was profound. We talked on 



62 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

until late in the evening, and our conversation ended 
by my being invited to come over, next morning, and 
inspect the " Odditorium." 

Mr. Ruggles was on hand promptly after breakfast. 
His night's repose had brightened his grey eyes, and 
he was hopping around as chipper as a bantam rooster. 
While we were crossing the street, he informed me that 
the " Odditorium " had "a two-foot foundation wall 
and above it, a three-brick wall laid to the top with a 
three-inch air space, to insure a dry climate within the 
building," and that a "Coat of arms" was placed 
above the door, said coat consisting of ' pens rampant 
and ink-stands militant." In a moment, the key had 
been turned in thedoor,and we entered the sacred por- 
tals. It was not the rows of books that astonished one, 
but the decorations. The wall paper looked, at first 
glance, like a great crazy quilt. And yet, it was not 
unpleasing. Noticing my surprise, my host informed 
me that there were 165 kinds of paper to be seen on 
the walls! I have no reason to doubt him, for every 
hue of the rainbow was represented, and it seems that 
months were consumed in obtaining the collection. 
The wood work was equally as interesting. Half a 
dozen varieties were shown in the business room in 
which we stood. "I have," said Mr. Ruggles, "used 
birch, chestnut, beech, hickory, Georgia pine, sandal- 
wood, teak, cocobola, lignum vitae, ebony, walnut, ash, 
maple, bird's eye maple, elm, oak, mahogany, rose- 
wood, satin-wood, and," — he paused for breaih, but 
concluded, as an alleged pun, "wood have more if I 
could think of 'em!" He added that he had sent to 
Asia, Africa, and the four corners of the globe for these 
specimens, and they were employed in many strikingly 
beautiful designs. There is probably no building in the 



MR. EAGLE'S U S. A. 63 

country that has so many sorts of papers and woods in 
its interior as has this at Bronson, Michigan. A few 
steps to the rear was a flight of stairs leading up to a 
glass door marked, " Sanctum Sanctorum," for every 
division was supplied with a sign of some kind. Up 
the stairs we went and into the private ofifice. I began 
to see that the proprietor was one of those who have a 
"place for everything and everything in its place." 
Things were as neat as if sandpapered, and the use to 
which each nook and closet was designed was evinced 
by the proper sign. Even the coal hod and broom were 
set in the " Omniumgatherum. " A small washstand, 
off at one side was the " Lavatorium." In the matter 
of an office desk even, your J. Francis could not be 
content with that of ordinary type, but had had one 
made after his own peculiar notion. It would shut to- 
gether like a big box, but when opened appeared as 
two desks hinged in the form of a half square. This 
private ofifice was finished in bird's eye maple, walnut, 
cherry, and ash. The order in which Mr. Ruggles' 
private library, ledgers, and odd trifles were arranged 
would have told, if nothing el'^e had, that the proprie- 
tor was a bachelor. No woman could have endured 
such miraculous method. Her very soul wo,uld have 
been inspired with the desire to break in here with mop 
and pail. 

Then, we ascended another flight of steps and pass- 
ing under the sign, " Hall of Single Blessedness," en- 
tered an apartment sumptuous in mahogany, curled oak, 
swamp ash, and sandalwood. Here were lounges, hand- 
some chairs, ceilings in sky blue and russet. The chairs 
and furniture were so placed that I knew they were 
never permitted to be in any other position. It was a 
most inviting resort. If the owner felt indolent, he 



64 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

could repair here and, reclining upon his red plush 
sofa, look down through the large windows, like a mon- 
arch, upon the less-favored beings who toiled along 
the streets below. I was next led to the "Saint's 
Re^t." This, as the society editor loves to say, was 
"a symphony in green and gold," and contained the 
folding bed where the owner, after the day's round of 
reading and musing, sought solitary repose for his tired 
shanks. A patent boot-blacking arrangement was fas- 
tened in a corner, behind a door. More patent ware 
was evinced in brush holders, coat hangers, and the like. 

"Here's where I keep a small stock of supplies," 
said Mr. Ruggles, pointing to an open case of drawers. 
One drawer contained ginger, another, some lemons, 
a third, cloves, others, cream of tartar, pennyroyal, 
and catnip. I laughed. "There was a lady I showed 
through this building once," exclaimed Mr. Ruggles, 
slightly piqued, "who said my apartments looked like 
an old maid's paradise, but I didn't thank her for the 
remark ! " Near the oaken chest was a lemon squeezer. 
You see Ruggles, when thirsty, did not have to go to 
the drug store and plank down ten cents for a soda. 
No sir, all he had to do was to sky up stairs and, in a 
trice, he could brew himself a lemonade and drink it 
all by his lonesome. 

We mounted a third stairway, crawled through a 
small aperture and were in the "Omnium Surveyorum," 
or cupola, to ordinary mortals. The view from here 
off over the thrifty orchards and green fields was 
delightful. After enjoying this for a time, we began de- 
scending, and kept on descending until we were in the 
basement among the boxes and bales of the "Shippo- 
rum," or shipping department. From thence, through 
the rear door, I was conducted to the " Refuge de 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 65 

Tornado," or cyclone cellar, an ingeniously construc- 
ted hole in the earth, some fifteen feet from the 
"Odditorium," about six feet deep, and ten feet square, 
and which, with its tiled walls, cemented floor, and 
earth covered roof, was more neatly appointed than 
some* parlors I have been in. The idea of this havtn 
of peace was not so unwise, for Michigan, since 1823, 
has had seventy-four tornadoes. As we went back into 
the "Odditorium," I said, "Mr. Ruggles, you certainly 
have everything here but a wife. Why don't you 
hustle around and ensnare some one of these pretty 
girls I see in Bronson?" " Not much!" he answered 
with venom, "I've worked like a slave to get this 
palace built, and if I got a wife, she'd be running the 
Odditorium herself and want to have me out there 
iw the tornado cave, feeding me through a hole in the 
roof. No sir, I know when I'm well off. I want no 
female help about this institution! " 

We got back into the main book room upstairs and 
I was shown odd and ancient tomes, autographs, coins, 
and newspapers, until my eyes were weary. He had 
volumes here that many a city bibliophilist '.vould revel 
in and he told me that he sometimes sold to searchers 
who had hunted vainly through New York, Boston, 
Philadelphia, and Chicago. It seems that the la- 
mented Eugene Field knew of this strange Michigan 
repository and had posted a few of his intimates re- 
garding it Presently, we found ourselves taking a 
rest in the "Sanctum Sanctorum" once more. Mr. 
Ruggles got to speaking of the days when he had foK 
lowed, from town to town, the occupation of a "book 
agent." In talking of the State of Kansas, he men- 
tioned Wichita. "I'll never forget Wichita as long 's 
I live !" he declared. "How's that?" I asked. "Well. 



66 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

I got in there, one noon, and went to work. I had 
been out about an hour, when a fellow in a blue coat 
grabbed me by the collar and was waltzing me along 
the street almost before I could get my breath, and 
certainly before I could my senses. I finally managed 
to protest, and demanded to know what I was arrested 
for. He wouldn't say anything, but yanked me along 
as if we were going to a fire. He weighed about two 
hundred, so I continued to stay in his company. We 
got down to the office of a chap I learned was city 
clerk. There, I was given to understand I had been 
caught red-handed selling books in the holy precincts 
of this dirty, prairie-dog town without having paid my 
license. I told the officer I was not aware of any such 
ordinance being in force. The officer simply walked 
away and the clerk began to talk with me, and said 
that he guessed he could fix it all right, as this was my 
first offense and it had been committed in ignorance. 
He suggested that ten dollars, paid to him, would quiet 
all proceedings. Like a fool, I took his word and 
handed him the money. Well, it wasn't two hours, 
until another infernal policeman nabbed me again. 
That city clerk had the face to say that, as I had ap- 
peared so honest, he decided to let me go until morning 
when I was to be present for my trial, but that he was 
surprised that I had gone right to peddling books 
again. T paid ten dollars and thought that disposed 
of the case ! ' I exclaimed. 'You did nothing of the 
kind,' that scoundrel declared, cool as a cucumber, 
'and if you persist in charges of that kind I shall sue 
you for slander.' 

"I was so mad that for a minute I could not open 
my head, but when I got my tongue, I gave it to 'em! 
They made a great roar and threatened everything, 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 67 

almost to having me drawn and quartered. I saw I 
was in for it, and demanded an immediate trial. They 
told me it was too late that day, as police court closed 
at three o'clock and there could be no trial before "nine 
o'clock next morning. I asked the policeman where I 
could get a lawyer. He took me up the street and ti> 
an office in the rear of a tailor-shop. The lawyer told 
me I had a pretty difficult case, and one involving 
a good many fine law points, as I had, after being 
permitted to go on my own recognizance, gone out and 
committed again the frightful offence, but he thought 
he could get me off. He demanded twelve dollars in 
advance for taking the case and, of course, I had to 
pay that. He was a red-faced, dissipated looking 
fellow and I did not like his appearance, but I was a 
stranger in the place, and decided one lawyer'd be 
about as good as another. 

'' Next morning they called my case and my lawyer 
made a lot of noise, but I guess that was about all it 
was. Then, the lying policemen told their stories. 
Anybody would have known they were lying, but that 
old Justice, with a face as long as a sword, said the 
Court regretted the necessity, but had no alternative 
other than to fine me six dollars and costs. I paid 
over eight dollars more. Then I told 'era they were 

nothing but a set of rascals. They tried to 

hush me up and said I'd get into more trouble. I told 
'em I didn't care, for they were bound to get all I had 
anyway. I knew the best thing I could do was to get 
out of the cussed town, but I'll die if while I walked 
to the depot the officer who went along didn't strike 
me for a dollar to buy cigars with, on the plea that he 
had befriended me by getting a lawyer for me ! I've 
crossed Wichita off my map! " 



THE FIRST STATE PUBLIC SCHOOL. 

IN the forenoon of August 6th, we reached Coldwater, 
Michigan, a perfect paradise of a town in Branch 
county. With its beautiful shade trees, wide, sandy 
streets, splendidly-kept lawns, and dwelling houses 
painted so brilliantly white, it seemed nothing was 
lacking to make the place attractive. An air of com- 
fortable wealth pervaded the whole region. The nat- 
ural surroundings seemed to have a reflex effect on the 
people, for everybody had a busy, happy appearance 
that told of respectability. If I were seeking to make 
my home in a small town, I know of none more attrac- 
tive than Coldwater. 

In the afternoon, I went up to see the Michigan State 
Public School, located just one mile. above Coldwater. 

If it be a credit for a Commonwealth to expend effort 
toward caring for its helpless, homeless children, many 
of them of illegitimate parentage, and placing them in 
away to become useful men and women, then the State 
of Michigan is worthy of the highest commendation. 
Michigan was the first in the Union to establish a State 
public school. It was of this institution that Drouin 
de Lhuys, in 1878, before the French Institute, said: 

"The State of Michigan, which has existed only 
about forty years, has the merit of preceding ancient 
Europe in the inauguration of a new era for dependent 
children. " 




H 
in 

O 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 69 

This school, up to July i, 1897, had received 4081 
children, and, through its agency, good homes had 
been secured for most of this number: a work that is a 
truer memorial to Michigan than could be many mon- 
uments of brass. 

The first official action leading to the establishment of 
this school was taken by Hon. W. P. Baldwin, in 1868, 
after a visit to several poor-houses, and in his first in- 
augural address as Governor of Michigan, he recom- 
mended the appointment of a commission to investigate 
the subject of preventive and reformatory institu- 
tions. Such commission was organized, and two years 
were spent in observation and study of this subject. 
In his second message, Governor Baldwin made an even 
more urgent appeal for legislation that should improve 
the condition of children then in the poor-house. On 
February 15, 189 1, the commission made its report, 
urging the establishment of the State Public School. 
After various discussions, a measure providing for the 
building of such an institution was passed by both 
branches of the Assembly and signed by the Governor. 
About $80,000 were appropriated by the State, and the 
site above Coldwater selected, the town contributing a 
fund of $25,000. By May, 1874, the buildings were 
constructed and ready for occupancy. Since that time, 
additional structures have been erected, so that the 
present plant represents about $150,000. 

The school stands within a handsome park, situated 
on high ground, commanding a superb view of the 
country about, and surrounded by the school farm of 
160 acres. The main building is four stories high, in- 
cluding basement, and its ground dimensions are about 
fifty by fifty feet. To the right, is the school house. 
To the left, a dormitory, and surrounding these, in pic- 



TO MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A, 

turesque locations, are nine cottages. To the rear, are 
the hospital, engine house, laundry, and farm houses. 
It was provided at the outset that the institution 
should be non-sectarian, and that, when possible, pref- 
erence in admitting inmates should be given to the 
children of Union soldiers and sailors. The method 
of conducting the affairs of the concern is most care- 
ful, strict, and expeditious. P'ull provision has been 
made in various statutes, passed from time to time, and 
" child saving is carried on in Michigan with remarkable 
effectiveness. In every county of the State, there is 
an agent of the school. These officials are under the 
supervision of the State Superintendent, and work in 
conjunction with the Superintendents of the Poor in 
the several counties. When a child is found whom it 
is believed best to have placed in the school, applica 
tion is made to the Probate Judge of the county in 
which the dependent lives, and a day is set apart for a 
formal hearing just as in any law trial. By this means, 
all the facts are brought out, and the merits of the case 
arrived at. If it is decided to place the child in the 
institution, its parents, if known, are required to yield 
up all claim over it, and the little one becomes the 
ward of the State. 

The afternoon I visited the institution, there were 
nearly 300 little tots, of ages ranging from five to nine, 
playing in various parts of the grounds. Many were 
out at the swings, others roaming through the gardens 
and chattering at the farm hands as they busily plied 
their hoes. These small beings were a study. A few 
had the misshapen heads, the low brows and the heavy, 
staring eyes that told of criminal parentage. Some 
had the nervous movements that bespoke mischief and 
fun. But for the most part, they were as bright a lot 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 71 

of children as could be found anywhere. So far as one 
could discover, every reasonable care was exercised for 
their proper training. The nine cottages contain the 
indoor playgrounds, and they are provided with all the 
ingenious toys and devices that delight the youngster. 
Each cottage is in charge of a matron During the 
school year, six teachers are employed. All these 
women who have control of the children are required 
to be either Normal, or Kindergarten, graduates. 

As the law now provides, children as young as six 
months may be sent to the school, and during the past 
year,, one of the cottages has been set apart for the 
care of babies. 

While the children are in the school, the county 
agents are investigating with the purpose of finding 
homes for as many as possible, since it is the policy of 
the State not to do anything to assist in developing 
these wards to a life of dependency. Just as rapidly 
as it can be done, good homes are secured, and the 
children are taken from the institution to places where 
they can have the fostering care of home-life. Those 
who adopt children are required to give strict account 
of their stewardship. If a child goes, out to receive ill 
treatment, the fact is soon known by the representa- 
tives of the State, and woe betide the unfeeling guar- 
dian. So thoroughly and adroitly is this espionage 
manipulated that there is small chance of undetected 
imposition. Hundreds of self-supporting, enterprising 
young people can be found all through Michigan today 
who owe their start in the right direction to the State 
Public School, and many noted citizens, among them 
General Russell A. Alger, have, for years, followed the 
custom of making liberal donations to this institution. 

The Superintendent of the school is A. J. Murray, 



72 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

an alumnus of the Michigan State Normal School, and 
an educator of many years' experience. He said, in a 
rather enthusiastic vein, to me: 

" I have been a teacher for a long time, but I think 
I was never more deeply interested in any one branch 
<'>f training than this. It is a form of child develop- 
ment that is a success because it is conducted on a 
thoughtful, systematic basis. I will undertake to say 
that the thirty-one thousand dollars it annually requires 
to keep this school going could not be more wisely or 
beneficently spent. Since this school was opened, 
Michigan has become noted for her freedom from pau- 
perism. " 



"PARADISIAN SOUTHERN MICHIGAN." 

T TELL you I shan't stand it a minute longer! " 
I " Sorry, lady, but we be 'n givin' ye the best 

accommodations we kin." 

'•Accommodations! Call this 'accommodations?* 
Here it is, hotter than fury, and the musquitos thicker 
than sin, and no musquito netting on the windows." 

"Well, we get 'long ,thout 'em. So does the other 
folks. We haint never be'n 'customed to have 'em." 

'•Get along without them? How many travelers 
stop here? One a year?" 

" Taint no use to get riled, lady. Til do anything I 
kin to make ye com'fble." 

'• I should think it looked like it! Weather such as 
this and not a single bit of netting in the hotel! Why 
it's outrageous to make travelers suffer like this! In- 
stead of asking us to pay two dollars apiece to stay 
here, you ought to hand each of us five ! 

The noise died down with a lot of mumbling I could 
not hear distinctly. 

The above dialogue took place in the hotel at Quincy, 
Michigan, about one o'clock on the night of August 
6th. We had scarcely turned northward out of Indiana 
before we realized that, so far as the roads were con- 
cerned, we had made a grievous mistake. Instead of 
being covered with a layer of carefully-spread gravel, 
we found ourselves plodding over miles of fine white 



74 



MR. EAGLE'S V. S. A. 



sand. Into this, the narrow-rimmed wheels of our pha- 
eton sank so deeply that all Kit could do was to tug 
ahead in the awful heat as if she were pulling a load of 
lead. We began to find stretches of low woods and 
swamp that seemed to shut out the breezes and make 
the air oven-like. These areas harbored myriads of 
musquitos. They would settle in clouds upon Kit's 
neck and flanks, and I used to periodically get out and 
scrape them off with a palm-leaf fan. The towns we 
passed through were models of attractiveness, but 
these country roads and surrounding were otherwise. 
Everyone remembers that terrific two weeks of August, 
1897, when the thermometer registered daily from 95 
to 110° We were elected to spend this two weeks 
trudging over these sand roads of " Paradisian South- 
ern Michigan," as the railway tim'^-tal^les call it, but 
the "paradise" seemed to me to be most patronized 
by the musquitos. And they were none of your feeble 
nervous insects, either, but vigorous old gallinippers 
that in the language of Mr. Fitzsimmons, "were well 
up in the art of jabbing and getting away. " That night 
at Quincy found me in a tiny box of a room, having a 
single, small window. Mother's apartment was just 
across the hall, and larger, having two windows. There 
was no transom over the door, which I was compelled 
to close, as I wanted to be sure of keeping my few per- 
sonal belongings. Oh, it was hot! The room seemed 
stifling. When we had driven from Coldwater that af- 
ternoon, the mercury stood at 98° I peeled off every 
thing but my good name, lay down on the bed, and 
consigned myself to torment. I had been there about 
two minutes, when I heard a thump at my door. 

"Who is it ? " I asked. 

" It's I. John, arn't you most dead?" 



MR EAGLE'S U. S. A. 75 

" Just alive," I answered consolingly. 

" Well, what are we going to do? " 

" Grin, and bear it ! " 

" But there is not a musquito-netting on these win- 
dows! " 

" Just discovered it? " 

" Well, what are we going to do? " 

" Blamed if I know." 

"Well, we've got to do something," mother kept 
on. 

Presently, I said, "Oh mother, do crawl in there 
and keep quiet! You can't change the weather and 
'skeeters." 

I heard the door slam, and, after a while, a mode- 
rately strong snore made me think mother had found 
"peaceful valley." I recalled no more until I seemed 
to hear a muttering of voices. It grew louder and 
aroused me so that I sat up on my elbow and listened 
intently. I thought one of the voices was familiar. 
I got up, and went to the door and listened again. 
"Well, by George!" I exclaimed, under my breath, 
"if she isn't down there jawing that poor little night- 
clerk!" The conversation was just as I've related it 
at the beginning. After a bit, a figure covered with 
white stalked along the hall. 

"Here!" it exclaimed, in a tragic whisper, "take 
this and put it over your face ! " and I was handed a big 
wet cloth. " I've been down stairs, got a towel, and 
cut a hole in it that I can stick my nose through, and 
I'm going to try now and see if I can't keep those mus- 
quitos from eating me. All they can touch of me is 
my nose anyway." 

" Oh mother, do for pity's sake go to bed before you 
get the fire brigade and the whole town of Quincy 



y6 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

aroused. What do you think that poor chap down 
stairs can do? There are just as many musquitos here 
now as there were before you went down and made the 
howl. " 

"Well, I was going to do something. 1 wouldn't 
stand it !" 

Once more, I sought my lowly couch, and thought 
the campaign had terminated for that night. 1 had 
snoozed about ten minutes, when mother wanted to 
know "how I was." She kept that up at regular inter- 
vals until the snores overcame her and the paroxysm 
of fussing. I heard no further from her until morning 

We shall never forget "the spending of the heated 
term in the woods of Michigan," where mother deliv- 
ered lectures to so many hotel men, that, as we after- 
wards referred to different places in this region where 
we had stopped, it seemed she remembered some of the 
localities chiefly according to the length and variety of 
" talking to " she had given the bonifaces. 



N THE MAUMEE VALLEY. 

FORTS MIAMI AND MEIGS. 



HE who battles for his country must do so because 
it is his inmost convicti(5n that such is his duty 
— not because he hopes to hand his name down 
to posterity. The true soldier goes out with a fixed 
willingness to lay down his life for the national honor, 
and, if need be, repose forever unknown. Too often 
that is the fate he does suffer. 

Within the enclosure that marks the location of old 
Fort Meigs, on the east bank of the Maumee river, op- 
posite Maumee City, and about seven miles below To- 
ledo, Ohio, lie the bones of thirteen officers and twenty- 
six privates of the United States Army. Men who fell 
in the attack on the Fort, in May, 1813, when this now 
prosperous and beautiful valley was the theatre of 
Indian rapine and butchery. 

Not a slab, headstone, or mound, designates the 
resting place of these patriots. Even their names and 
regiments are practically unknown. The troops of lit- 
tle children that come down from the town of Perrys- 
burg (just above the Fort and on the same side of the 
river) to ramble among the great, circuitous embank- 
ments that once caught the shells of British batteries 
and the bullets of Shawanese rifles, love to tell the 
stranger of the important points of interest, and, some- 



78 MR. EAGLE'5 U S. A. 

times, after they have nigh exhausted their stock of in- 
formation, they will point their chubby fingers vaguely 
off northeastward and solemnly say: " They's some 
soldier's buried over there! " 

It is a satisfaction, however, to know that after the 
lapse of eighty-four years, a movement has been 
begun by certain prominent residents of Toledo and 
Wood county looking to the restoration of Forts Meigs 
and Miami, as well as the other historic points in this 
famous Maumee Valley and vicinity, and the placing 
of monuments and memorials that may fittingly and 
intelligently designate the scenes of some of the most 
important eyents in the early history of the country. 
This enterprise is being conducted by the Maumee Val- 
ley Monument Association, which has its headquarters 
at Toledo, and of which Rutherford B. Hayes was first 
president. The Association has been in existence some 
eight years, and the renewed interest it has succeeded 
in arousing concerning the illustrious deeds done by 
American soldiers in this region, is decidedly credita- 
ble. The Association hopes, eventually, through ap- 
propriations from Congress and subscriptions from 
patriotic citizens, to have monuments, or markers, at 
Fort Industry, on the site of Toledo, Fort Miami, Fort 
Meigs, Fort Defiance, near the present Defiance, Fort 
Wayne, at Fort Wayne, the battlefield of Fallen Tim- 
bers, and the old burial ground on Put-In-Bay Island, 
in Lake Erie. 

Forts Miami and Meigs were located almost in the 
center of the Indian outbreaks that, between 17S7 and 
1814, made the Northwest Territory synonymous with 
the terms blood and terror. Fort Miami was estab- 
lished by the British, in 1793, for the purpose of aiding 
England in her efforts to gain possession of as much of 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 79 

the Territory as possible. The present village of 
Maumee City is built just across the river from Fort 
Meigs, that is, on the west side. About a mile nortli 
of Maumee City, and close by the western bank, 
the traces of Fort Miami are to be seen, chiefly distin- 
guished by a deep depression at the top of the bluft". 
This was the oldest of any of the forts that were built 
in this region. It was first used as a trading post, but 
subsequently came into the hands of the British to be 
employed for military purposes. It was abandoned by 
them after the treaty of 1795. The northeastern angle 
of the work, and a portion of each adjoining curtain, 
together with the greater part of the demilune, in ad- 
vance of the northern front, are still in a fair state of 
preservation. The river front has been destroyed. The 
site is a part of the plat of Maumee City, occupying 
about five and one-half acres. Apple trees have grown 
all about the place, and their knotted boughs sway over 
the spot where, in May, 1813, scores of helpless pio- 
neers were butchered by the Indians, at the instigation 
of the English monster, Sir George Proctor. 

One who cons up a bit with a school history or the 
like, and then strolls, as I did, leisurely across the 
bridge leading directly over from Maumee City to Fort 
Meigs, will be struck by the fact that the old fort is so 
well preserved in spite of the wagon roads, electric 
road, and other labors that have been prosecuted di- 
rectly through the earthworks. The village of Perrys- 
burg (named in honor of the Hero of Lake Erie) is but 
a few steps up the hill from the Fort. Communication 
between these two towns, Maumee City and Perrys- 
burg, had to be arranged for, and, in so doing, it be- 
came a problem of how not to wholly destroy the old 
landmark. So carefully has it been managed, however 



So MR- EAGLK'S U. S. A. 

that nearly two-thirds of the original embankments re- 
main. It is not a very difificult matter to pick out al- 
most the exact boundaries. 'l"he original lines of cir- 
cumvallation inclosed an area of about one and three- 
tenths acres. Near the center was the powder maga- 
zine. An old well to be seen near one of the dusty 
wagon roads is the same out of which drank William 
Henry Harrison's troops. The soldiers' graves are in 
the northeastern corner of the fort, and near where 
the officers' houses stood. The fort forms part of the 
farm of Timothy and Michael Hays. These men have 
been careful in permitting no plow to be run over the 
locality of the graves, and have done nothing to disturb 
the original appearance of things. 

It is the plan of the Monument Association, before 
referred to, that the grounds of all these historic forts 
shall be purchased and turned into public parks, after 
the proper monuments, costing from three to five thous- 
and dollars, have been erected. 

As I climbed to the top of the great ridge that was 
thrown up on the night of May 2, 1813, when the seige 
of Meigs was begun, and which extended clear through 
the entire length of the fort from north to south, I 
could not but marvel at the attractive scenery that 
spread about me, and began to think of the wonderful 
change eighty-four years have worked in this region. 
I sat down on a velvety knoll and, saying to myself, 
" It would be a very proper thing to contemplate,'" con- 
cluded : " I will therefore contemplate. " It was a warm, 
sunny afternoon. Below me, the broad, shallow Mau- 
mee stretched away to the southward as a rippling, sil- 
very band. Across the river, where a Miami camp had 
once existed, the spires and cottages of the quiet, pas- 
toral village of Maumee arose from among the shade 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. gl 

trees. A cave-like opening in the opposite river bank 
showed where the Britisli cannon had once roared. To 
my left, looking off southward, some fields, now be- 
longing to small farms, marked the battleground of 
Fallen Timbers, where, on August 20, 1794, General 
Wayne dealt such overwhelming defeat to the savages. 
To my right, on the hill, the white walls of Perrysburg 
glared in the hot sun. Away in the distance, a dull 
line of smoke indicated the busy city of Toledo. As I 
sat thinking of what an allurement civilization had 
wrought here, and tried to imagine how this valley 
must have seemed when the Indians were roaming the 
neighboring hills and paddling along the river, I heard 
a low whir-whir that quickly rose to almost a shriek, 
and, looking around, I saw an electric car shooting down 
toward me from Perrysburg. From 1780 to 1897, in 
less than ten seconds! I scrambled down in a jiffy 
from my easy perch, hailed the car, and got aboard for 
a run up to Toledo. 

It would be hard to find a railway of this sort that 
gives one a finer jaunt than this Maumee Vallev line. 
A double track extends from Toledo, down the east 
side of the' river, through Perrysburg, then through 
Fort Meigs, and across the river to Maumee City 
and thence, back again to Toledo, making a cir- 
cuit of about eighteen miles. From Maumee upward, 
one passes by numerous Summer hotels, residences, 
gardens, and club grounds, and for picturesqueness, 
mortal could long for nothing more delightful. Of late 
years, it has become quite the fashion for wealthy To- 
ledo families to own homes along the Maumee, and 
small wonder is it. After a busy day in the bustling 
town, the tired office man can jump on the electrics, 
and, in forty minutes, be out to his country home where 



82 MR. EAGLE'S U S A. 

original-package air greets his lungs, and nature's hills, 
flowers, and birds soothe his worried soul. 

I had a short talk with one of the editors of the vene- 
rable Toledo Blade^ during which he told me he had 
worked in various metropolitan centers, "but," said 
he, "I would not give up the privileges of my home 
down in Maumee City for the attractions of the best 
flat in New York." 

When I got back to our hotel at Maumee, in the 
evening, I found mother had just come in from a ram- 
ble through Fort Meigs. She had been entertained 
during the expedition by a flock of children, and here 
is what she said: 

"Well, I've been over around Fort Meigs, and I've 
had the greatest time with a lot of little children. The 
cutest lot of little folks you ever saw! 

" I was standing by the road, looking at the different 
mounds, when along came a little Shetland pony 
hitched to a tiny wagon, and the wagon was just piled 
full of children. They were giggling and laughing, 
and the moment they saw me they stopped the pony. 
Out they tumbled and began to look at me, wondering, 
I suppose, what I was doing over there all alone. They 
were bare headed and bare footed, and of ages ranging 
from five to ten. With their tow hair fluttering in the 
wind, and their eyes full of fun, they made a picture. 

" ' Well, children,' I said, ' where is the fort? ' 

" 'Oh, all around here!' they exclaimed in unison, 
making vague and sweeping gestures with their hands 
and arms. 

" ' Say, won't your horse run away if you leave him 
there unhitched? ' 

" 'Oh no, he's all right,' and they giggled again. 

" 'Well, how am I going to get over that fence?' I 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 83 

asked with a smile, as I pointed in the direction of the 
great ridges of earth that lay on the other side of the 
road, but separated from that territory by a four-board 
obstruction. 

" 'Oh we'll help ye over, lady. We'll help ye. 'They 
grinned, sucked their thumbs, and giggled some more._ 

" I handed my sun shade to one and she poked it 
through the fence to a curly-headed little boy who had 
already scrambled over. Another took my satchel. 
I gathered my skirts about me, put my foot on the 
lower board and climbed up. In the meantime, a 
couple of little boys had reached the top board and 
sat perched there like bantams. They put out their 
hands and pulled me along. With the aid of this 
united colony of courtiers I managed to get on the 
other side of the fence. Then my cavalcade began to 
show me around. They chattered so fast and giggled 
so much that I had hard work to keep track of what 
they were saying. It seemed to me mostly, 'Oh, lady, 
look at this ! ' and ' Oh, lady, look at that 1 ' and ' Aint 
that fine, lady! ' So I clambered over the big heaps 
of earth, with part of my train wiggling on ahead, and 
the rest trailing behind in stumbling knots. I had 
got to the top of the highest embankment when I 
heard a screech. One little codger had been hurrying 
to catch up with us, and had stumbled. He bumped 
his nose, and I next saw him rolling over and over 
down the embankment. He did not fetch up until 
reaching the ditch. I couldn't help laughing, though 
I fear it wasn't very sympathetic. One of the girls 
hustled down and picked him up. She, in trying to 
wipe the dust off hastily smooched it over his face, 
and then dragged him up the slope by one of his arms, 
just as you'd pull a hand sled. 



MR. EAGLE-S U. S. A. 

"It was, really, the cutest pack I ever saw. Well, 
when we returned to the fence again, and they had got- 
ten me back over that, I managed to herd them to- 
gether, and said to the oldest girl, I guess she was 
about ten, 'Here's a dime and you get some candy for 
your crew.' 

" 'Oh thank you lady! Thank you!" and they 
scrambled back into the cart. The pony started with 
tow heads, legs, and arms sticking out in all direc- 
tions. As they went along, they kept waving their 
hands at me and shouting, 'Good bye lady I ' I strolled 
back to the hotel and every time, as they went up the 
hill toward Perrysburg, when they saw me look around 
at them,, they'd wave their hands to me." 

"Mother," said I, "you were more interested in 
those children than you were in Fort Meigs and all its 
history. " 

" I guess I was too," she replied 



OF RARE MANUFACTURE. 



TT TE had crossed the Maumee on the morning of 
\/y the fifteenth of August. It was raining — one 
of those slow, methodical, persistent drizzles, 
that tend to make the wayfarer in an unfamiliar region, 
feel bereft of all kinship and comfort. The clay 
roads were worked up into a sticky, waxy substance 
that made travel tedious and dispiriting. Desiring to 
get on the road as early as possible, we had started 
without breakfast and, by half-past seven, we were 
hungry. Finally, the rain stopped, and presently the 
sun actually showed himself. Never did two pilgrims 
accord him truer welcome. For a while, we were not 
so exercised over the craving for something to eat, and 
took a more active interest in the scenes about us. 
But not for long. Hunger will dominate, and, at last, 
we halted in front of a tiny cabin, much resembling a 
Swede farmer's place in Iowa, determined to make an 
effort to secure a cup of coffee, if nothing more. The 
location was about ten miles south of Toledo, and 
within a mile of a hamlet called Lime City, we being 
on the road leading in an easterly direction toward 
Fremont, the county seat of Sandusky county. 

A little man with closely cropped hair, checked 
shirt, blue overalls, and barefooted, was standing by 
the door, and. as we stopped, he came out to the 
roadway. "Could we get a little coffee and a bit of 



86 MR EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

bread?" we asked. "We are traveling and will pay 
for the trouble. " 

"Well, I-I d-on't k-know", was the answer, as the 
little man put up his hand and dubiously scratched his 
head. "I-I d-don't know as we have got anything fit 
for a stranger. My wife has been sick and hasn't been 
able to keep much cooked up." I noticed by the pe- 
culiar burr that he had not been many years away from 
the hills of Wales. Also, that he was wonderfully 
clean. His blue overalls looked as if they had been 
run through the wringer and threshed until the threads 
had been worn white. His feet were as snowy as if 
they had been sandpapered. 

"Well now, if we can just get a little something, 
that will do, and we will try not to cause more bother 
than absolutely necessary, for we are really very 
hungry. " 

"Well, we'll try the best we can and get some coffee 
and eggs, but we haven't anything cooked up," and 
back he trotted toward the house, while I got out to 
hitch the horse. 

"A tall, thin woman appeared in the door-way and 
called out: " Better git down from the carriage, lady, 
and come right in. " 

" Oh no," answered mother, " if John may bring me 
a glass of milk and some bread, that will do for me." 

I went into the house and, in crossing the threshold, 
I noticed the little Welshman hustling around in the 
kitchen among the pots and pans getting the coffee. 
His wife said, " I've been sick a long time and haven't 
been able to do much cooking. I guess my husband 
has done more cooking than I hav^ for the past few 
months." Her wan, sallow face, and low, hacking 
cough bore out the truth of her statement. While 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 87 

waiting, I had a chance to study the surroundings. 
The room had no papering, but the plastering was 
clean and there were no bits that had been knocked off 
by the careless tipping back of chairs. The pine floor- 
ing was spotless as scrubbing could make it. The 
window casings and mop-boards had been painted a 
dull drab, and they all seemed to have been lately 
scoured. The furniture was primitive, and consisted 
of three cheap chairs and a table. This latter was of 
pine, home-made, and had no cloth upon it. There 
was no picture in the room, and the only book was a 
small Bible. Then I glanced out of doors and over 
the yard in which not a spear of grass was to be seen, 
not a flower, nor a shrub. I took note of the fact that 
there was no porch above the door, and that the land 
for a half mile about, was low, and a sort of yellow 
clay. 

Yet, somehow, as I heard the little Welshman call- 
ing, " I.iz'beth, where is the sugar? " and " Liz'beth, 
where is the milk?" or "Liz'beth, ain't they some 
eggs?" for it appeared, man like, as if he had dififi- 
culty in finding anything, there was such a cheery tone 
in his voice that it changed the whole situation and 
made one feel that, after all, there was a happiness 
here that a good many of us mortals would be glad to 
possess. 

Soon the little Welshman hustled in with the coffee, 
and I heard a spluttering of the frying pan. In a mo- 
ment the three eggs were on the table, and, with a loaf of 
white bread and the coffee, I sat down to a most ex- 
cellenr breakfast. The eggs were none of your '53-ers, 
but genuine fruit of the year of grace, 1897. The 
ccffee was strong and bracing and the bread delicious. 
While I was eating, the thin wife stood by, with a big 



88 MR. f,ac;lk's u. s. a. 

palm-leaf fan, driving off the flies, while her husband 
slipped out with a pitcher of milk and some buttered 
toast for mother. 

When I had finished, I offered the woman fifteen 
cents. But she wouldn't accept it! " No," she said, 
"if what we have given you was eatable, we are glad 
of it, but we really haiiit had anything cooked up. 
No, I don't want no pay for that little bite." I 
pressed the matter more urgently, still she refused. I 
went out to the road determined to make her husband 
take a quarter for what we had eaten. He was, also, 
unwilling to have the money and said over and over, 
" No, we don't want anything for that." I finally de- 
clared with some show of decision; " Now, here, you 
just take it and tell your wife to use it for pin money. " 
In rather a reluctant way, he let me drop the coin into 
his warty hand and, bidding us "Good bye," trotted 
back to the house. 

I had just got into the phaeton when out hurried 
our little Welshman again, and exclaimed: "My wife 
says thi-s is too much. She says if you was bound to 
pay, that ten cents is enough ! " Then followed an- 
other argument, but I was obdurate this time, and as 
mother was saying, "I wish we could give you five 
dollars," we started on. 

If ever people needed money, that couple did. There 
was no opportunity for their playing upon our sympa- 
thies in the hope of imposing upon us at some future 
time, for they knew we both were traveling and they 
should never see us again. The only reasonable con- 
clusion was that their actions were literally in accord- 
ance with their principles As we drove along, we 
discussed this incident and mother declared, "John, 
I'd rather be as poverty-stricken as that Welsh couple 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. go 

and as contented in the exact adherence to the promp- 
tings of my conscience, than be king of a great realm." 
"Yes," I replied, "if there is such a thing as the 
final round-up of the good and bad, those two will have 
a pew all to themselves right down in the Amen 
corner of the Elect." 



IN OHIO OIL FIELDS. 



WE were driving along, late in the forenoon of 
August 15th, toward Woodville, in Sandusky 
county. It was beginning to get dusk and we 
to get interested in finding out just where we were to 
stop for the night. Gradually, there came to our nos- 
trils a peculiar, sickening, all-pervading odor, and soon, 
in looking ahead of us, we could see the open land and 
the woods marked by the derricks of the oil wells. 
They dotted the land like so many monuments. We 
counted twenty-five in a space of scarcely two acres. 
The sight of these tall, quadrangular structures, to- 
gether with the beams and boards lying about, made 
the territory look as if order and contentment had been 
forever abolished. The whole region seemed as if it 
had been trampled over, and torn up, until a blade of 
grass had no right to exist. The air was awfully 
heavy, and the smell of oil overpowering. It was ex- 
actly the smell that the "packing" used about the 
axles of car wheels and machinery possesses. Oil was 
on the surface of the water in the ditches along the 
road. It encrusted the pools in the wagon track, for 
it had rained that morning. The engine houses near 
the derricks bore great black stains on their sides. You 
heard nothing but the slow glug-glug, glug-glug, that 
the walking beams at the scores of derricks made as 
they methodically bumped up and down. 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



91 



We passed a lot of boarding houses. They were 
built like long barns, and their oil-soaked, unpainted 
clap-boards evinced their hasty construction. Groups 
of husky, bearded fellows in red shirts were standing 
about, after their hard day's work. Some were wash- 
ing the grease from their faces and arms; others were 
slouched down on oak benches sucking away at clay 
pipes. The fogginess and the gradually-approaching 
night made the surroundings appear as if, after just 
leaving the region of small but comfortably-tenanted 
farms, we had stepped into a region where the sun 
never shone, and all you could see, smell, hear and 
taste was oil. Three years ago, Woodville was a ham- 
let. Now, it has 2,000 population. When we got 
into the place, we saw that brick buildings lined either 
side of the way. In the town, all was bustle and bab- 
ble. Men in laboring garb were on the sidewalk and 
in the street. Most of them wore straps about their 
waists and pipes in their countenances. The general 
suggestion was as if a cloud of railway track layers had 
decended upon the spot, ready to remain a few weeks 
and then be off to another camp, miles away. 

With all its brick buildings and its air of improvised 
progress, Woodville had no public hotel, or boarding 
house. We got accommodations by piecemeal, secur- 
ing a place for our horse up on a side street where the 
only attendants about the barn were a pack of dirty- 
faced boys with heavy wads of "plug" stowed away 
within their freckled cheeks, and whose noisy impu- 
dence tended to give out the impression that the livery 
had all the patronage it desired without taking in an- 
other steed. We got supper at a dirty restaurant, and 
some dirty rooms over a dirty bakery. 

Early in the evening, I put out to look over this 



MR RAGLE'S U. S. A. 

grease-smeared town. The saloons were doing a good 
business, but a street fakir was doing better. This fel- 
low was a genius in his way. He was tall and thin. 
His nose was long and sharp, as was also his chin. His 
jet-black hair was worn to about the rim of his celluloid 
collar. A black Prince Albert and rusty, silk hat made 
his personality fit three types of character; the "lead- 
ing man " of a "repertory show," a country preacher, 
or a country politician. The man's capital lay in his 
mouth. In the two hours that he stood on that wagon, 
extolling his wares, it certainly seemed as if he used up 
all the words in the dictionary, and several thousand 
more. He began with electric belts at fifty cents a 
piece, and ran the gamut of prices until, at the last of 
his harangue, he was lauding five-cent tooth brushes. 
After one of his paralyzing periods, he paused to mop 
the perspiration off his neck and get breath. As he 
scraped away with his tattered silk handkerchief, he 
said : 

"My folks wanted me to be a Methodist preacher. 
Wouldn't I 'a been a peach? " 

The oil region of today comprises a vastly different 
territory than it did twenty years ago. It was then 
supposed that Pennsylvania was to always be the 
stronghold of this industry, but time and test have 
shown that you can't point out the probability of lo- 
cating oil with anything like the readiness even that 
you can a silver or gold mine. Men drill and they 
"strike it," and they "don't strike it." Geologists 
and practical experts have tried to formulate rules of 
probabilities but they have made none that are a cer- 
tain guide. The farmer who is having an artesian well 
sunk on his premises sometimes hits a flow of oil. or 
gas, and that is about all that can be said with positiv- 



MR KAGI.K'S U. S. A 



93 



ism. The oil fields of New York and Pennsylvania 
comprise less than 400 square miles, and the fields are 
widely scattered through various portions of those 
States. The development of this industry is gradually 
moving westward and it is but a few years since the 
wonderfully productive Ohio fields have been opened 
up. This territory may be bounded by starting at a 
point some ten miles south of Toledo, in Wood couniy, 
going southeast, taking in the counties of Sandusky, 
Seneca, Wyandot; then southwest over Hardin, Au- 
glaize, Mercer, VanWert, Allen, PutnUm, and Hancock. 
This is the principal area of the field, though the 
extreme northwestern portion of the State is being 
prospected to some extent. Over in Allen county, at 
Lima, is the territory that has made Cal. Brice, his 
hair, and his millions. The whole area of this oil 
territory is about 160 square miles. It is but a little 
over thirteen years ago that oil was developed at Lima, 
yet as early as July, 1886, that field was averaging 
1 100 barrels daily! 

The people who own, or did own, the ground on 
which the newer oil fields are being developed show 
that they have profited by the widespread stories of 
the experiences attending the early discoveries in 
Keystonedom. They have little notions of the "Coal- 
Oil Johnny" business. They employ all energies to 
secure the utmost from their opportunities, and demand 
for land, before valued at $75 per acre, prices ranging 
from $300 to $900. They get them, too. Northern 
and western Ohio are peopled largely by those of 
German descent, and their native conservatism has 
easily kept them from being made crazy by prospects 
of speedy'wealth. They don't go to fine horses and fast 
Iiving,'but to the bank, and continue to wear the same 



94 



MR. EAGLE'S U S. A. 



old straw hats and blue overalls. I was talking with a 
groceryman in Woodville. "There," said he, "is 
Adam," pointing to a character of advanced years 
sitting, a short distance up the street on, a watering 
trough, and placidly smoking a corn-cob, 

" Adam who ? " I asked. 

" Don't know. I forget his name at the tail end. 
' Adam,' that's what everybody calls him 'round here. 
Three years ago, he had a few acres of ground and 
was raising truck for a living. He's got lashuns o' 
dough now. More'n $300,000, I 'spect." 

I went up and began talking to "Adam," but he 
sententiously told me to "Clear out!" I tried to 
explain, but he dove into his port trousers pocket, and 
was hauling forth something that looked like a revolver 
of the most sanguinary variety as he said in more pro- 
nounced cadence, "Git!" I complied. 

I found, through others, that "Adam" had been 
pestered so much, of late, by bunco men that his heart 
had grown slightly calloused toward strangers. 

As the boundaries of the oil region have changed, so 
have the methods of drilling and disposing of the prod- 
uct. Hundreds of engines and valuable devices have 
been contrived so that, today, a well 2,000 feet deep, 
can be drilled for less money than one of 500 feet in 
the early '70's. These inventions cover almost all 
possible phases of the labor. A drill may get fastened 
in the earth, hundreds of feet below the surface, yet 
there are appliances that can readily catch hold of the 
drill, unloosen it, and bring the instrument triumph- 
antly to the surface. Ingenious couplings for drills 
have been planned, hence little time is lost in making 
connections. In fact, there is scarcely a detail that 
has not been changed. The drilling and equipping of 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 95 

an oil well is, however, no inexpensive undertaking, 
for the average will represent an expenditure of $3,000, 
and requires from fifteen to thirty days time. 

" Piping " is a system that has revolutionized the 
oil industry and made the teamster and canal-boatman 
obsolete. Cast iron pipes are laid below ground and 
convey the crude product to various points hundreds 
of miles distant. To keep them up to fullest capacity, 
pumping stations are located at regular intervals along 
the line. 

The plan of connecting the wells by an arrangement 
of wooden tumbling rods and making one engine do 
the work of several at the same time is among the 
newest and most valuable devices in vogue. This 
simply consists of light oaken shafts of about thirty 
feet in length, hinged together and connected with the 
walking-beams of six or seven wells. This has proven 
a great saving in time and expense. Like many a 
timely invention, the wonder is nobody ever thought 
of it before. 

Six men are required in managing a well and they 
have to be fellows of intelligence and vigor. No 
weakling is wanted in handling the drills that weigh 
a hundred pounds to a section, as well as the numerous 
big beams and bars used. In none of the great indus- 
trial localities will you find more magnificent types of 
workingmen. Lusty, broad-shouldered six-footers, 
they are very Titans in strength and endurance. 



THE BIRTH PLACE OF THE WIZARD. 

./ TADISON'S fool" — that was the complimentary 
P title old Sam. Edison's boy, Tom, used 
to bear at Milan, Ohio. The lad, as an 
aged resident expressed it, "was alius tinkerin' and 
wan't a mite like other young ones." People were hon- 
est in the belief that this freckled youngster was "a 
leetle off," and his sobriquet naturally followed. To- 
day, the first thing that is told the stranger who drops 
into this little and obscure hamlet in Erie county is: 
"This is where Edison was born." The name is ut- 
tered with pride, respect, nay, even with almost rev- 
erence. 

Milan was once a thrifty town, doing a big business 
in river trade and the handling of farm products. It 
was at the height of its prosperity when Thomas A. 
Edison was born here in 1847. The building of the 
Lake Shore & Michigan Southern R. R., a few miles 
south, made Norw^lk the live town, and, from that 
time, Milan was doomed. Only about three hundred 
people inhabit the place now. The small, one-story, 
brick house in which Edison was born is still standing, 
and residents love to point it out. The structure is in 
a good state of repair, and looks much as it did when 
the embryo genius lived in it, and was the butt of 
neighborhood ridicule. An old barn near by is also 
shown as the place where Edison's first laboratory was 



MR EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



97 



located. His pieces of wire, cans, and tools could not 
be left about the house for they were always being dis- 
turbed, either by members of his own home, or prying 
visitors. So, at last, in desperation, he rigged up a 
workshop under this barn. There, he had a surprising 
array of contrivances. This place, also, proved 
speedily of great interest to townspeople, who would 
pounce in upon him every little while "just to see 
what he was up to. " The lad could not abide their ag- 
gravating investigations and hateful badgering. So he 
planned to stop it. One day, the boy went out and left 
the old door purposely ajar. He hid close by and 
watched. A man soon came along, opened the door 
and, in poking around among the traps on the rude 
work-bench, picked up a coil of copper wire. He let 
out a yell that was heard clear to the post-office. 
Tommy rushed in and turned off the current. Hence- 
forth, he was not troubled by guests. 

They told me how, during the night of the Presiden- 
tial election of 1856, a crowd had started to go 
down to Norwalk six miles south to get the returns. 
Nine-year-old " Edison's fool " was along. While the 
assemblage was waiting in the telegraph office for the 
operator to come, many of the men were placing bets. 
A man who was about to put fifty dollars on Fremont 
felt a pull at his coat sleeve, and, looking around, saw 
" Edison's fool." 

"Better not bet that way," said the lad. "Fre- 
mont's beat ! " 

"What the devil do you know about it? " was the 
surprised and half-angry rejoinder. 

"Cause he is," maintained the boy stoutly. "Why 
mister, I kin read what comes over them tickers just 
like you kin writin'! " 



98 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



The man persisted, however. When the operator 
arrived, and made the announcement, it was found that 
" Edison's fool " had stated the fact. Fremont was 
defeated. 

Shortly after leaving Milan, we came, at a distance 
of three miles, to Berlin Village. A campaign " rally " 
was in progress, and the town was full of people. A 
couple of brass bands were on hand, and had been 
pounding away for all they were worth, when " Cyclone 
Davis," the "Kansas Populist," arose from a hastily 
improvised platform and began to speak. It was an 
awfully hot afternoon, and as- "Cyclone" got under 
way, he removed his coat, to give him an air of "com- 
monness," and, at the same time, more comfort. 
Presently, he unbuttoned his vest. Then, he unfas- 
tened his collar. The sun came down hotter and hot- 
ter. As " Cyclone" sailed into " those blood-sucking 
vampires, the trusts," and told of " Mark Hanna's mil- 
lions, wrung from the brow of overburdened slaves," 
he was perspiring like a Turkish bath. He tore off his 
cuffs and threw them into a chair. Things were be- 
ginning to get interesting. "Cyclone" talked and 
talked. Finally, a share of his hearers grew tired of 
standing in the heat and drew away where they could 
huddle down under shade trees. "Cyclone" picked 
up a palm-leaf fan, and assumed a position of dogged 
determination, showing he meant to finish if it took 
until next morning. At length, one of his hearers in- 
terposed an objection to a certain remark. The orator 
magnanimously declined to notice the critic who, in- 
spired by his first success, soon fired another question, 
but with no more effect. A third time, he tried it. 
"Cyclone " paused long enough to hurl a mouthful of 
statistics at his tormentor. The crowd cheered its ap- 




A CYCLONE IN ACTION. 



MR. EAGLE'S U. 5. A. 



99 



proval and, feeling encouraged, the compaigner de- 
clared: " My friend, you make me think of a chap out 
in my State that got full, and wobbled over to the 
depot in a little town to see the train come in. The 
platform was crowded with folks, and pretty soon this 
feller got up in front of some men and says he: 'I k'n 
lick any man, hie, 'n thish blame town, kin!' Nobody 
noticed him, an' he set across the street for another 
drink. He come back after awhile an' says, ' I-I k'n 
lick any man 'n thish dam county!' He swung his 
arms, and sloshed around, but folks wasn't going to 
fuss with a fool like that, an' he took trail for more 
liquor. Well, sure's you live, he come back once more 
an' got right plumb in front of a strappin' twenty-year- 
old farm boy, 'n says this time : ' I k'n lick any man that 
lives in th' hull State o' Kansas! I — ' when biff! an' 
this belligerent cuss was a rolling off the platform, and 
fetched up in a puddle. At last, he got to his feet, an' 
as he was digging the mud from his eyes, he says: 
' Gem'len, I took in too much territory that last trip ! ' " 



WILSON'S MILLS. 



IN Ohio, we entered a more broken stretch of coun- 
try and, at the same time, began to find a people 

who felt the grinding heel of hard times — the hard 
times that had been gradually growing harder and 
harder through a series of years — the times that had 
been wrestled with, and fought against, with the deter- 
mined energy, the thrifty habits, and the brawn of the 
race of farmers who had been tillers of the sod for gen- 
erations. It was here that we found the farmer with 
his wife and children picking grapes in their many-acred 
vineyards, and laying them carefully in boxes and bas- 
kets, then taking them in wagons to the markets of 
Cleveland and Toledo, and selling them for one cent a 
pound. 

" Does that pay? " we asked. 

"Oh no," was the tired answer. "We can't get a 
living by it any more. We used to. But with other 
truck, it helps us out. An awful lot o' hard work to 
keep up a vineyard. To be shore, we don't need a 
great sight o' money. AV^e raise everything to eat ex- 
cept our groceries. Them and the taxes is what beat 
us. " 

The first bit of real mountain grandeur that came in 
our way was near what is known as " Wilson's Mills," 
in Cuyahoga county. We had taken the river road, as 
they called it, and had glided along a gradual slope of 



MR. EAGLES U S A. lOI 

a couple of miles that was delightfully enjoyable, with 
the smooth easy roll of wheel and soft hoof beats, and 
the views of the valley below. We were not long, how- 
ever, in discovering troubles ahead in the shape of 
steam saw-mills (Kit's particular abomination) standing 
close to bridges over which we must pass; narrow, 
stony roads, dark with over-hanging boughs of forest 
trees, and the uncomfortable, not to say dangerous, 
nearness of an occasional sportsman who made the 
woods resound with his shots, startling Kit, and mak- 
ing her so nervous she was ready to jump at the slight- 
est noise. This so interfered with our pleasure that 
we speedily determined to get out into the sunlight 
even if we did have to climb steep hills. Moreover, 
there was nothing especially interesting in groping 
along this thickly wooded valley, so we took the first 
branching road to the left, and immediately began 
pulling up a steep incline. Kit was so eager to get out 
of this uncanny place that, as soon as she turned into 
the branching road, she gathered all her strength, lay 
back her pointed ears, dug her iron toes into the rocky 
soil, and started to run up the hill. We could not help 
laughing at the vim with which she started for the up- 
per regions, although we allowed her to have her way 
for only a few rods, when we called a halt, and John 
alighted. 

I remained in the phaeton, and soothing her down 
into a moderate walk, I let her go on for perhaps half 
a mile, until we came to a little open space in the woods 
that was comparatively level. 

" I am going to get out here," I called to John, who 
was slightly in advance. "You take care of Kit. She 
walks too fast for me. I want to enjoy some of the 
views from this hill, and rather walk." 



,02 ^^- EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

"All right," said John calmly, and then to Kit: 
"Come on, Mrs. Kit-Kat. We'll leave mother to 
browse here in the woods." 

Beside the way were tangles of blackberry bushes, 
budding golden-rod, and purple asters, — a sight 1 had 
not seen in seventeen years. I stopped and looked at 
them, touching the prickly things lovingly. Then, I 
sat down on a big granite boulder and looked about 
me, — at the string of stone wall against which the 
blackberry bushes grew closely; at the white, stony 
road; then at the trees on the other side of the stone 
wall, beeches, spruces, and hemlock. I thought of the 
little palm-like boughs I used to gather from the hem- 
locks back in New Hampshire and make into brooms 
for household sweeping. They were good for floors, 
and as for carpets, we were not bothered by them. 

" I have indeed left the West behind me! " I said to 
myself aloud, rising reluctantly and slowly moving on- 
ward. "The West with all its vast opportunities for 
money-getting. I begin to feel myself contract under 
the old pinching poverty of New England already. The 
sight of those hemlock boughs brings it all back to me 
— the sunny days in early November when I used to 
fling a rope over my shoulder and go over through the 
cattle lane into the pasture to gather our Winter's sup- 
ply of broomstuff." 

I saw myself collecting as much as I could carry, 
making a slip-noose of my rope, placing my bundle of 
hemlock within, drawing the noose tightly, then fling- 
ing the load on to my back after the fashion of the 
pack-peddler, and trudging homeward. Day after day 
was this continued until thq cellar held a good big 
heap of fragrant green, which was to serve for brooms,^ 
and for covering potatoes and apples in the cold 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



103 



weather to prevent them from freezing. How every- 
thing found a use there!" I continued reflectively. 
Bits of woolen cloth were saved to patch mittens in 
Winter. Every tiny piece of cotton was hoarded for 
quilts, and everything that could be turned to no other 
end was worked into rugs. 

After this fashion my thoughts drifted as 1 slowly 
climbed nearly to the top of the hill that was more than 
a mile in length. Then, a knoll, thickly covered with 
dwarf, white asters tempted me to a little rest. I 
turned and was about to drop down upon the fairy 
couch when a burst of landscape came upon my view 
that, for a moment, made my heart stop beating. "-The 
Spirit that drvelleth among the hills'' was there. I felt its 
presence. In that first sweep of the eye, I stood in 
silent, reverential awe, while my gaze traveled abroad 
over the wide, green valley below, to the tiers of 
circling mountain chains that lifted themselves to the 
skies away in the farthest distance. I saw the river 
gHnting through the trees with a sort of frosty blue as 
it zig-zagged along the valley. I saw, as a part of the 
whole ground-work, occasional openings where buzzing, 
whirring mills added their peculiar touches of pictur- 
esqueness. But no description of the material beauty 
and harmoay of the scene could touch the greater 
charm of it all, the spiritual, that enthralls the senses 
and fills the soul with an indescribable content. It 
banishes the troubles that haunt us, the doubts, and 
fears, and forebodings of ill that are forever on oui- 
track, striving to turn into gall our happiest moments 
Even the dread of death is so illuminated by the subtle 
Presence that it seems to us only the ''golden portal" 
through which we painlessly enter the "Perfect Life." 
'J'hrough all the avenues of sensation steals the wonder- 



I04 



MR. FAGI.F.''; T-. S A. 



ful influence, until every nerve is intoxicated with the 
soul's happiness. Human interests, associations and 
pleasures, slink away, and away, till we no longer take 
note of their existence. Something far more satisfying 
has crept into our lives, and taken possession of us. It 
speaks to us in a thousand ways. Its many keyed 
voices are all about us. We listen to the soft whisper- 
ings among the trees, the shrubs, the grasses, and our 
hearts understand. It is "the Spirit that dwelleth 
among the hills" — 

"Mother, Mother I " John is calling in the distance, 
"Do come. It's almost sunset ! " 

The suddenness of the interruption for a minute al- 
most dazed me I mechanically gathered myself up 
from the crushed asters on which I had been sitting, 
and began to climb the steep ascent. The sensation 
of thus falling from my lofty flight to the rough, rocky 
road was not in the least agreeable. For several min- 
utes I could hardly locate myself. My feet felt queerly, 
and I seemed to make no progress as I endeavored to 
plod on. The fact that we were several miles distant 
from any village, and that there was no way of know- 
ing how long it would be before we should find a farm- 
er's family who could, or wcnild accommodate us with 
lodgings, made no impression upon me. I forgot I 
was mortally afraid of driving after dark, and that 
there was very fair prospect of our now being obliged 
to do so. 

At last, I reached the top of the hill, and as I came 
around a curve in the road, I saw Kit nibbling a beech 
twig, and John lazily stretched upon the green turf. As 
soon as I came in sight, John arose, and pushing back 
his light felt hat, placed his left hand upon his side, 
while he began flapping b'S right hand and foot in uni- 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



lOS 



son like a bird's wing, keeping time to the indescrib- 
able swing of " Great Hey Rube," as he burst out with: 
" One day last Spring, I believe in May, 
Old Cy Perkins to me did say. 
Says he th' circus is come tew town. 
An' what dew ye say 'f we see the claown? " 

I laughed. I always laughed when he sang this ab- 
surd stuff. It was the staple nonsense of our journey. 
If I were tired, or blue, or discouraged, that comically 
flapping hand and foot, that rollicking tune so like the 
rollicking words, was sure to break the dismal spell 
with a care free laugh. If a threshing engine must be 
passed, or a dangerous railroad crossing braved, and 
John knew I was inwardly quaking with fear, his lively: 

" Well, old lady, what dew ye say 'f we see the 
claown? " 
never failed to make the danger seem less serious, and 
call forth, at last, a ghost of a smile. There was such 
an extensive repertoire of poetry (?) comprised in this 
song that it never became monotonous. As John said, 
there were yards and yards of it, and it would require 
several weeks to go through it, if sung on the install- 
ment plan. Besides, if one should exhaust the regular 
rigmarole, it was so easy to manufacture stanzas to suit 
the occasion. 

"The grandest of anything yet!" I exclaimed as 
soon as I could get breath. "John" (pathetically), "I 
do wonder how I have lived away from the moun- 
tains, and especially, the God of the Mountains, for so 
many years ! " 

John stopped singing, straightened up, and looked at 
me (quizzically, then, "You really don't say!" he 
drawled. 

" Yes, John, I do say. I never get so near the Infa- 



Io6 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A 

nite Presence as I do among the hills. I feel an actual 
communication with the sou/ oi the material world. I 
have gotten back over nineteen years. I am young 
again ! " 

"Then let's see how lively you can jump into that 
phaeton. It'll soon be dark as pitch ; then you'll think 
uf nothing but threshing machines and rail-roads." 

"Oh, John, for once, I did actually forget them!" I 
exclaim, hurriedly climbing into the carriage. 

"What if we had to dig a living from among these 
rocks? ' John bye and bye remarked, as we jogged on 
our way. " That would take the romance out of you, 
I guess. For my part, I'd rather see fields of corn 
stretching away over level prairies for miles, and miles, 
and know that hard times or soft, banks breaking or 
making, two feet of the richest soil of the globe lay 
beneath my feet, than, find the hoe striking fire from 
these barren hills, where even a spear of grass scarce 
dares to push up ! " 

" But yonder are extensive vineyards," I reply, "and 
they look as if they were loaded with fruit." 

"Yes, but those vineyards mean a vast amount of 
work with next to nothing for pay. Why, they told me 
back in Fremont, that one could buy the best quality 
of grape wine for forty cents per gallon! Think of all 
the work that means! No wonder the women have to 
wear patch-work dresses of three-cent calico, and at 
meals, the families can't get a slice of meat from one 
week to another! " 

"I must admit, John, I do not see how they keep 
up their strength and work on the kind of food they 
have. We have found few farmer's families since 
we left Indiana that had anything but fried fat pork for 
meat. I am famished now for a bit of beef steak. It 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S A. 



107 



seems as if they might have some eggs with their 

pork." 

"They have to sell their eggs to get their pro- 
visions," put in John. " ' Necessaries,' as they used 
to say in New Hampshire. I prophesy you get nothing 
but bread and butter, weak tea, with, maybe, a bite 
of gingerbread for supper tonight. They don't even 
have a cup of coffee. The coal miners in Illinois have 
a hundred per cent, more nourishing food than these 
people who own fairly large farms." 

"The high living of the poor people struck me with 
surprise when I first went West," I answer. " In fact, 
they seemed to have extravagant ways in almost every- 
thing; really and positively wasteful. Now, coming 
East again, what used to seem ordinary frugality, im- 
presses me as very uncomfortable poverty. 

"You wouldn't get such a rig as that farmer's wife 
wore where we took dinner today on any Western wo- 
man who could scrape together fifty cents by washing 
or any other means; be assured of that! " said John 
with emphasis. " Her skirt was old brown calico, her 
waist of faded pink calico, and her sleeves of black 
cambric; but I must say," he added, "she was neat as 
a pin, and an exceedingly lady-like, intelligent woman. 
Why in the world don t these people sell what they've 
got and get out of here! that's what I want to know." 

"Sell!" and I laughed. "Seeing their condition, 
who would buy? They would have to nearly give their 
places away, or abandon them to waste, as we have 
found some on the way have done. 

"It's pitiful " John replied, " to see men past middle 
life staggering along with mortgaged farms, when you 
hardly find a farm-owner in Illinois, past forty-five, who 
has not gained a fair competency. Why, our villages 



Io8 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

out there are made up principally of retired farmers. 
They seldom work very hard after they are fifty. But, 
I'm afraid the low price of grain in the West this year 
will be a set back to immigration and thus check ad- 
vancement of the price of land." 

"The price may not advance, but it will not decrease 
in Illinois nor Iowa. Those States are settled on too 
firm a basis for that," I said decisively. " In the West, 
they have big crops ('overproduction,' as the Populists 
love to call it), and low prices; in the East, it's small 
crops and low prices. As long as the income of the 
West continues to maintain its superior ratio with the 
income of the East, as it has done thus far, how can it 
receive a set back on account of low prices? " WitI - 
out pausing for John to answer, I added, 

"The prices are extremly low fc^r farm produce' all 
over the country, but they maintain their accustomed 
ratio, one section with another." 

John thought for a moment in silence, and I had 
quite arrived at the conclusion that I had settled the 
whole question, when he disturbed my self-compla- 
cency with: 

"You must remember that the laboring farmers 
throughout the West are, in the main, renters of the 
land they cultivate. They are largely of foreign na- 
tionality, and own very little, usually nothing, besides 
their teams and farming implements. When a partial 
crop failure comes, or year of exceptionally low prices, 
they can not sell enough farm produce to pay their 
rent and have sufficient left to keep themselves and 
families in comfort. Too often, the landlords demand 
their rent promptly, and in full ; they seize the tenant's 
stuff, sell it off, and the renter is left to suffer. Such 
cases are fairly numerous. Associated Press correspon- 



MR. EAGLE'S U S, A. 



109 



dents in the Western villages spread the items as much 
as possible for a ' space bill, ' and they go to the Chicago 
papers From here, the matter is given another pad- 
ding, and fired on East. The ' plate ' concerns dish it 
over again, and it makes up the ' ready print ' material 
».)f the country papers circulating from Ohio throughout 
the East, and Southeast. The farmers of these sec- 
tions read this stuff, and conclude that the West really 
produces only grass-hoppers, floods, and mortgages. 
Therefore, they are determined to regard all men v/ho 
speak of the West as skilled falsifiers, and remain con- 
vinced that the West is Tophet in varioloid form. They 
feel aclually thankful to remain astride of the rocks 
and be unseduced by the prairie loam. Such being 
the case, I believe the present low prices will still fur- 
ther aid in retarding immigration." 

"I grant, John, that the prevailing low prices are a 
set back to enterprise and business ventures throughout 
the country, but the Western States will hold over, 
where the Eastern can not, on account of the superior 
abundance of their crops. There is a vast difference 
between having low prices and being unable to raise 
anything of consequence in crops, and having a soil 
that will shoot up the corn and oats, filling the bins, 
be prices low or high. The great stores of corn, oats, 
hay, cattle, horses, hogs, give people out there secu- 
rity for a good living. The truth is that there has 
been so much said by campaigners about ' mortgaged 
farms,' and said, not because people were starving, but 
because they were not in the condition they had once 
been, that those who know nothing of the general 
facts in the West, immediately conclude, as you say, 
that the farmers out there are tenfold worse off than 
they are here. " A. S. A. 



ORIGINAL SHRINE OF MORMON ISM. 



SOLEMN, massive, and weather stained, it stands 
on its seven hills, apparently to remain for all 
time a monument to the memory of the greatest, 
maddest craze in the name of Religion that has ever 
taken place in this country. Such is the appearance 
today of the famous Mormon Temple which Joseph 
Smith caused to be built at Kirtland, in 1834. 

If the occupants of the little cemetery near this 
structure could arise, or if the great thick walls of the 
building itself could articulate, they would tell shock- 
ing stories of fanatical insanity — how many a fevered 
zealot gave his lands, his home, and his all, to provide 
funds for the building of the Temple. No money, or 
labor, was spared in an effort to make it a building 
that should long endure the storms and buffetings of 
the years. The furnishings were costly, and more than 
one farm went to buy walnut, or rosewood "thrones," 
"sanctuaries," or carvings. 

Under the influence of the man who was chief in the 
rearing of this edifice, respectable farmer families were 
thrown into turmoil. Husbands left their wives and 
children, mothers deserted their homes, and babes 
were placed in the poor-house. The end came when 
Joseph Smith was compelled to flee the State of Ohio. 
The Temple was all that was left behind. It is to be 
seen now, after a lapse of sixty-two years, in as solid 
and lasting a condition as the day it was completed. 



MR. EAGLE'S U S. A. HI 

It was in 1830 that Smith appeared in Kirtland, and 
with his coming there was a social revolution, the like 
of which Ohio had never witnessed. Smith had with 
him about thirty worshipers, and their ways filled the 
staid residents of Lake county, at first, with disgust. 
But the Prophet's talking soon had its effect. He 
gained a few converts, and the rest was easy. Women 
became fairly infatuated with Joseph, who, if his pic- 
tures hanging today in the homes of Kirtland are any 
indication of what he looked like, was certainly a hand- 
some, vigorous man. The females influenced hus- 
bands and brothers, and the wily stranger owned the 
town. 

Smith, from the start, showed remarkably shrewd 
financial ability. He persistently dwelt upon the virtue 
of giving, and Joseph magnanimously managed the 
funds for the powers above. He started a bank. 
Money was issued, and it was not long until the coun- 
try was flooded with his notes. His followers had ab- 
solute faith, and farmers kept getting converted and 
turning their acres into dollars to be placed in Smith's 
bank. 

All along, the new-comer was collecting funds for 
the building of a great " Temple of Worship. " "A 
Store House of the Lord," he called it. The building 
was begun in 1831 and, by 1834, was completed. The 
location is a beautiful one. It looks off over a valley 
in which is nestled the village of Kirtland, with its 
neat white cottages and neighboring farm-houses. Up 
beyond the series of hills to the north, and distant 
about five miles, a broad, deep-blue band marks the 
stretch of Lake Erie. To the east is Little Mountain 
a picturesque and wooded slope. Off southward is 
Gildersleeve Mountain. The farms and the vineyards 



112 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

that dot the landscape help make as attractive a finish 
to the view as could be desired. 

The first performance toward construction was to 
lay the foundation on seven small ridges, or hills, in 
imitation of the Rome of old. 

The dimensions of the Temple were about 50 by 125 
feet. It was slow work putting up the walls, for the 
stone had to be quarried and hauled some distance, as 
Smith was bound that the enduring rock should go into 
his sacred establishment. 'I'he walls were built two 
feet thick clear to the roof, and so carefully were the 
seams laid that the mortar is as perfect now as when 
made. The edifice was at last completed and, to 
Smith adherents, the event was a momentous one. 
Well it might be, for about forty families had been 
made poor as crows. Their houses and cattle had gone 
into the stone walls and costly finishings. On the out- 
side, and facing the east, was placed this inscription: 



STORE HOUSE OF THE LORD. 

CHURCH OF JESUS CHRIST OF LATTER DAY SAINTS. 
1834. 



The work was completed, and, with a considerable 
amount of money at hand, there was no reason why 
Smith might not have run things for an indefinite time, 
had he not simply gone riotous with amorous capers. 
It was Smith's vices with women that began to make 
things warm for him and eventually drove him from 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



"3 



Kirtland. His illicit loves in different towns where he 
was exploiting his doctrines, and the variegated scenes 
that took place in the Temple, caused dissensions 
among some of his followers. Smith's "spiritual 
wives" grew so numerous that certain of the townsfolk 
of Kirtland, even as early as 1832, decided to take 
action. (Jn May 22, of that year. Smith, together with 
Sidney Rigdon, was taken out at night and given a 
dose of tar and feathers as a testimonial of the esteem 
in which they were held. Smith's propensities for 
wandering in forbidden fields were not daunted by tar 
and feathers. He still stuck to Kirtland, kept preach- 
ing his " Book of Mormon," and gathering in a " spir- 
itual wife " now and then. 

The financial crash that came with the failure of the 
Kirtland bank was the last straw. The Kirtland public 
was terribly enraged, for many Gentiles had deposited 
funds in the institution purely as a matter of business. 
Smith ran away, with a few followers, into Missouri. 
Then the remainder of the Kirtland Mormons found 
themselves in a pitiful state. They were without 
money, and most of them without homes. The county 
had to take care of the majority of the unfortunates. 
The power of Smith's personality is shown by the fact 
that some of his female worshipers made off, and braved 
the perils of a desolate trip over the prairies that they 
might again see the features of the " Prophet." 

After Smith's departure, the Temple gradually fell 
into disuse. For several years, this splendid edifice, 
which had cost over $40,000, stood on the hill-top in 
silent grandeur, deserted and forsaken. Finally, when 
the town was in need of a school house, the upper, or 
third story, was given over to the charge of a wielder 
of birch and rule. It thus served for some years. 



114 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



About i860, there was an attempt to re-organize the 
former believers of Joseph Smith at Kirtland. These 
new propagandists rejected the idea of polygamy, or, 
at least, they did not see fit to try it again in Ohio. A 
religious association was established under the name, 
"Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day 
Saints." The tenets are essentially the same as those 
of the Utah Mormons, with the exception of polygamy. 
Proselyting has been vigorously carried on in all parts 
of the world, and today, it is said, the members of this 
denomination number 27,000. The head of this sect 
is Joseph Smith Jr., a son of the man killed by the Illi- 
nois mob. The headquarters are in Lamoni, Iowa. 

Soon after reorganizing, the Temple was re-opened 
to regular worship, and it has been maintained until the 
present. Of course the Utah and Kirtland Mormons 
were bound to clash, and this squabble culminated, a 
few years ago, in a law suit concerning the ownership 
of the Kirtland Temple. It was a good thing for the 
lawyers, at least, as the cause went to the Supreme 
Court of Ohio, which finally decided in favor of the 
Kirtland branch. 

A visit to the Temple as it now exists is fraught with 
much of interest to the stranger. The interior is about 
as it was when built. On the first floor is the main au- 
dience room. The walls and ceiling are painted white, 
with no border or effort to relieve the sombre effect. 
The body of the large room is filled with walnut 
benches. The railing about the seats is very high, and 
a door leads to each pew. These doors have locks, or 
catches, so that, when closed, whoever is speaking is 
reasonably sure of holding his audience. At either 
end of the room, namely, the east and west, a series of 
elevated thrones, rising one above the other, mark the 



MR. EAGLE'S D. S. A. 



"5 



position during worship occupied by the dignitaries 
of Joseph Smith's reign. 

Rows of hooks in the ceiling show how the curtains 
which were once used were arranged to divide the floor 
into four apartments. 

The floor above is bare and desolate looking. About 
sixty chairs placed here indicate that it is used as a 
sort of lecture hall, but, in the days of Smith, curtains 
divided this apartment just as below. Rollers fastened 
to the ceiling of this second floor, together with a sys- 
tem of pulleys, enabled the operator to raise or lower 
the curtains of both first and second floors at the same 
time. In the third story, several partitions running 
north and south make a lot of separate chambers. It 
is a matter of tradition that in them many amorous or- 
gies happened once upon a time. 

The "Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter 
Day Saints," which worships in this Temple now, tries, 
so one of its lilders informed me, to follow literally the 
" Book of Mormon," which, be it known, prohibits po- 
lygamy. This convenient doctrine of plural wives was 
one of Smith's "revelations." It usually happened 
that when Smith felt like doing a thing, he had a 
handy " revelation " take place, to strengthen up his 
system, we may suppose. The polygamy feature was 
added by the genial Joseph, and perpetuated by Brig- 
ham Young with the Utah band. In speaking of his 
religion, the white haired Elder who showed me 
through this building, and a most courteous and suave 
old fellow he was, by the way, told, me that "they 
had all the blessings of all the other religions, and a 
great deal more." He informed me that, among other 
notions, the Kirtland "Saints" of today, hold that 
miracles are worked, now, exactly as the Bible tells of 



Il6 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

them; that healing can be performed by the "laying 
on of hands," and that " revelations " frequently grace 
their leaders. The literal coming of Christ for the 
second time is also believed in. The government of 
the sect is according to the Biblical plan of a President, 
Councillors, Apostles, Prophets, Evangelists, Pastors, 
and Teachers. 

This sect deifies Joseph Smith, despite his polygamy 
and all. Though I had just talked with a lot of resi- 
dents who remembered the real Smith days, my old 
Elder said: "It is all a mistake. " 



WITH THE DYNAMO. W. R. C. HOME. 



ARE New York and Chicago to be ultimately 
connected by an electric railway? 

If the towns along the line of the Lake Shore 
and New York Central keep extending their street rail- 
way systems, as they have for the past few years, and 
Toledo, Cleveland, and Buffalo promoters live up to 
their promises, this will be most certainly the result. 
So that one can hop aboard at Chicago and keep on 
getting "transfers" until he lands in New York. It 
will require but a surprisingly small extension of extra 
track to make possible this very thing. I was in 
Painesville the day the electrics made their first public 
trip from that place thirty miles eastward to Cleveland. 
The cars were crowded. The prospects were that the 
lively business would endure, for the fare was about 
one-half what it would be on the Lake Shore, or 
" Nickel Plate," and there was the added delight of a 
ride along beautiful country roads. Of course, the 
time was much slower, about an hour and a half being 
required, but your village dweller isn't exercised about 
that. An extra hour spent in this way is no delay to 
him. The farmer finds the electric the handiest 
thing imaginable. Think of it! After you finish hoe- 
ing, to go into the kitchen, change your blue frock for 
a conventional coat, walk out to the curb, and jaunt 
into the city as loftily as you please for five cents! 



Il8 MR EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

Farm life and city life united ! For about ten days the 
cars had been running from Willoughby, eleven miles 
east, and the first Saturday, when usually sixty tickets 
were sold, not a solitary paste-board was handed out 
at either the "Nickel Plate," or Lake Shore depots. 
The country merchants and steam-road folk were 
weeping on the same handkerchief. At Painesville, I 
was told that the merchants were going to hold an 
indignation meeting, so excited were they over the 
knowledge that even their small sales of thread and 
tape would be a thing of the past owing to the mad 
rush to Cleveland, "bargain day." All along through 
Northern Indiana, Southern Michigan, and each way, 
east and west of Toledo and Sandusky, run the elec- 
tric lines. The promoter will soon connect them and, 
with the air ship, travel between Chicago and New 
York will be subject to the whims of the tourist. On 
these long routes, handsome coaches are used. They 
are nearly as heavy as the steam cars, and quite as 
nicely appointed. They run almost noiselessly, and 
hence, the objections of farmers to them on the score 
of scaring their horses, unused to "city fixins, " are 
largely obviated. 

The jaunt along the shore of Lake Erie eastward, 
we found truly delightful. For mile after mile, our 
way was along a sort of "ridge" road that led past 
splendidly kept farms. The pastures in which fat, 
sleek Jerseys nibbled, were so green and clean! 
Scarcely a weed was to be discovered. The farm 
houses, painted glistening white, were surrounded by 
large, cleanly kept red barns and out buildings. 
Stately elms stood in the yards, and ruddy faced, 
bright eyed young folk were to be seen about. Then, 
a mile or so to the north of us. just over the tree tops, 



MR. EAGLE'S U, S. A. 



119 



the placid blue of Erie, dotted here and there with the 
sails of yachts, or lumber sloops, furnished poetic re- 
lief to the agricultural scenes. I wonder if this 
Arcadia has not had a deep effect upon the natures of 
its dwellers; if this peaceful, substantial, fertile plain 
by the waters is entirely disconnected with the fact 
that from this region have come so many men known 
to the industrial, military, and executive history of our 
country. At Mentor the sombre white house among 
the trees tells of Garfield. There were the Paines 
from whom Painesville is named. Julius C. Burrows, 
the Michigan Senator, was a Painesville lad. At 
Perry, the next town east of Painesville, Senator 
Allison, the Iowa statesman, was born, as also Gen. 
Wm. L. Stoughton, of Michigan, and at Madison, still 
eastward, among others were reared Major Evers of 
the 9th U. S. Infantry, now stationed at Madison 
Square, New York; Henry Gumming, one of the pro- 
prietors of the Minneapolis Tribune^ and the late Milo 
B. Stevens, who managed, for years, one of the two 
largest Pension-Claim agencies in the country; the 
other being that of George E. Lemon, editor of the 
National Tribune, at Washington. This region was 
the headquarters of a thoroughly appointed underground 
railroad during the Abolition days. At Madison still 
lives E. F. Ensign, one of the rescuers of Clark, the 
original of George Harris in "Uncle Tom's Cabin." 
Clark, after making his way northward from the Ohio 
river was befriended and secreted here at Madison, 
with the intention of his being kept until means could 
be secured for getting him into Canada. Slave agents 
located and seized him. While he was being taken to 
his hearing, the farmers and villagers managed to in- 
geniously regain possession of Clark, and he was hid- 



I20 '"^IR. F.ACLK'S U. S A. 

den, this time beyond all danger. After the war, 
Clark became quite a noted character as a lecturer. 

The only Home of the Women's Relief Corps in the 
United States is situated here in Madison. Within 
this handsome brick structure, sixty elderly women, 
who nobly gave their energies toward caring for, and 
cheering the men who served in the Northern bullet- 
department of the Civil war, are spending their last 
days. I do not believe you can select sixty individuals 
who better represent the Spartan element in American 
womanhood than those you see in this Home at Mad- 
ison. Their faces, while strikingly tender, at the same 
time exhibit that determination which would have en- 
abled them, if necessary, to seize the flag from the 
falling bearers and urge ahead the regiments and com- 
panies. The sort of character these women possess is 
not met with every day. Yet, we must have it, else 
where would our soldiers and Presidents be produced? 
Without such, a king might soon be located at Wash- 
ington, D. C. The idea of this home originated with 
Mrs. Annie Wittenmeyer, of Sanatoga, Pa., a lady 
known throughout the Union, to the Grand Army of 
the Republic and the Women's Relief Corps. 'Ihe 
W. R. C. raised the money and the home was built 
just five years ago. 'Ihe matron of the institution is 
Mrs Clare Hoyt Burleigh, a former President of the 
W. R. C. It is well worth while to visit this place and 
talk with the inmates. There are those here who were 
factors in scenes that were interesting. For instance, 
there is Mrs. Hiler, who, as a dispatch bearer, has many 
times ridden, on a bareback horse, through the Rebel 
lines. Mother Ransom, beloved of California, because 
of her brave mercies to the Golden State's soldiers. 
Another is Mrs. Shute, once a schoolmate of Harriet 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. I2i 

Beecher Stowe, and, although over eighty-six, she will 
convince you, by her familiarity with several foreign 
languages, of her liberal education. Here is Mrs. 
Randolph, a colored woman, the only one in the insti- 
tution. She can tell of things that will show you what 
the North fought about. It is a patriotic satisfaction 
to walk through this building, observe everywhere the 
effort made toward the comfort of these deserving 
women ; to ramble over the farm maintained in con- 
nection with the place, and to know that the Union has 
a National home for those who, though they could not 
carry muskets, did that which was of almost equal 
value, — carried comfort to the wounded and dying, and 
became the only angels the army boy ever knew. 



ON THE EDGE OF ERIE. 



A WIDE, smooth, level road with borders of evenly 
mown green turf. This was the road that skirted 
Lake Erie for miles and miles east of the city of 
Erie. We rolled leisurely along this charming drive- 
way, one bright afternoon late in August. It was a 
Saturday, and we were within about twenty miles of 
Buffalo. 

There was a cool breeze blowing lightly from the 
Lake and the blue, the intensely blue, expanse of its 
waters was usually in full view on our left, reaching 
northward and westward as far as the eye could reach. 
The extreme limit northward was a long, gray, undu- 
lating cloud that we suspected was a range of Canadian 
hills. Away to the west, the blue of the waters deep- 
ened until they appeared to meet the blue of the sky in 
a purple haze. 

Finely cultivated garden farms upon our right showed 
a mingling of almost infinite tints of greens and browns 
which contrasted agreeably with the blues upon our 
left The loftiness of the arch of sky above, the far- 
away horizon, and the blues upon our left, threw a pe- 
culiar grandeur and a lavishness of magnificence over 
the whole scene. We had become so accustomed to 
the low heavens and the near horizon of the prairies, 
that the present vastness of space had a wonderful fas- 
cination for us. 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



123 



Pleasure seekers were everywhere. Gay bicyclists, 
alone, or in groups, flashed by. Open carriages full of 
young people in bright, Summer costumes, chatting 
and laughing, drove ra[>idly past. All this seemed in 
keeping with the day and the landscape, though the 
occasional aristocratic barouche, drawn by dock-tailed 
long limbed horses, imparted a touch of something 
that impressed us as out of harmony. 

As we neared Buffalo, within twelve or fourteen 
miles, the grassy space between the highway and the 
Lake began to show decided evidence of that modern 
improver(?), the landscape gardener. Flowers, shrubs, 
trained vines, and fantastically pruned evergreens bor- 
dered the gravelled paths that crossed and re-crossed 
each other at all degrees of angles. Then came the 
dainty cottages, and villas, so artistically constructed, 
and arranged amid masses of leafy green and profusion 
of flowers, they could hardly fail to be a delight to the 
passer-by, as well as to the occupants. Still farther 
on, costlier and much more magnificent residences 
came into view. The lawns surrounding these were 
terraced to the edge of the Lake, and on each terrace 
tropical plants bloomed in luxurious abundance. There 
were vine-covered arches where hung the shining 
houses of gaily feathered songsters; observation tow- 
ers, flower-wreathed pavilions and pagodas in which 
hammocks were swung. Then, two, or three, odd 
looking little buildings attracted our attention that re- 
minded us of the Javanese huts at the World's Fair. 

" Do you suppose those can be the genuine struc- 
tures.'' " I said to John. " Brought here from Chicago, 
as souvenirs of the Fair? " 

" Must be," he answered. " Just the traps to catch 
the eye of a millionaire. It's the oddity that takes. 



124^ 



MR. EAGLE'S U S. A. 



You know what the little boy said, as he watched the 
monkey cage at the circus. ' 'F I had a face like a 
stove-cover an' eyes a mile apart, gunuls would be 
feedin' me candy an' callin' me a sweety-eety ting, but 
I haint nothin' 'cept a boy, an' it's taters 'n bread f m 
one year ter tother! ' " 

We questioned an attendant who happened to stand 
at the entrance to the grounds of one of these homes, 
and learned that our conjectures were right. There 
were two Javanese huts, and a third represented a pea- 
sant's house in old Ireland. Perchance, the rich peo- 
ple who purchased them had a purpose apart from their 
novelty in placing them so conspicuously on the front 
lawn. However that may be, the thoughtful could 
draw many a lesson from the contrast between these 
far-off homes and the luxurious dwellings overlooking 
them. No doubt, more than one owner, as he glanced 
at them, would think of the humble cottage where he 
began life's struggle. 

A sudden puff of wind, then a swiftly-moving shadow 
from the west, chasing away the golden light that lay 
over the earth, caused us to lean out of the phaeton 
and look backward. 

"I believe a storm is coming up," I exclaimed., as 
I searched the western heavens. "That purple-blue 
wall I noticed some time ago is almost black now, and 
is ever so much nearer. It is traveling after us, and 
pretty fast, too." 

" ' It blew, it snew, it friz on Christmas day, so merry 
they say!'" chanted John. Then "Mrs. A. S. Ames, 
hold the ploog, while I flatten this carriage top, or 
youHht boosted into the worter! " 

"Oh John! you are always spoiling the situation by 
such outlandish talk," I replied pettishly, but he said: 



MR EAGLE'S O. S. A. 



I2S 



"You can't pour out your soul on beautiful skinnery 
and gentle heifers when there's a storm coming up. 
Got to look out for your corpus then. Say, what kind 
of a reception do you suppose you'd get if it was rain- 
ing, and we drove into one of those swell yards? " 

"Well, you may be sure I should attempt it if the 
storm were upon us," I answered stoutly. "As a rule, 
people show kindness of heart when put to a test like 
that, whether rich or poor." 

"Nein! An old squire with white vest would 
come out and tell us if we'd saved our money, we 
shouldn't be shagging about like tramps. And when I 
told him it was no time then to argue the origin of 
species, he'd say the time to get out of the storm was 
before it came up. That's the sort of brotherly love 
we'd get. And ■" 

"But John," I interrupted, "there is something 
awful in that blue-black cloud and the hollow roar of 
the wind, and see; there come the waves tumbling 
over each other into long black troughs." 

" Lake Michigan showed a muddy green in a storm," 
John added. " These waters look nearer black than 
anything else." 

"Grewsome!" I interjected, gathering my wraps 
about me. "But do look at Kit! She don't know 
what to think of those tumbling waves. See how big 
her eyes are, how distended her nostrils! She points 
her ears like 'a Princess of the Desert! ' as Ben Hur 
would say. Oh, my!" I exclaimed, as the waves 
broke upon the shore and Kit gave a little jump. 
"This road is much too near the water." 

"She will soon get used to it," comforted John. 
" Soon as she's sure it's nothing but waves, she'll not 
mind it." 



126 MR. EAGLE'S U. S, A. 

Splash, splash! Splash, splash! came the waves, 
dashing yeasty spray far up the steep banks and ledges. 
Blacker and blacker grew the northern sky. More 
sullen became the wind's roar. Something terrible 
seemed about to be upon us. I looked backward. 
■|"hat horrible cloud was closing in — surrounding us. 

"John, I can't stand this another minute! " I burst 
out. " We must find a place to stop. Kit is fright- 
ened nearly out of her senses. See her quiver." 

"All right," John answered, seriously enough now, 
" soon's we can find a place to drive in under cover." 
(We had left the fine houses in our rear and there were 
no buildings now between the highway and the Lake). 
"But it looks to me," he added, peering into the west, 
"as if the storm is traveling to the north." 

I followed his gaze with anxiety. Alarmed as I was 
for our safety, (I was used to the sudden, rushing 
sweep of the winds upon the prairies, that carries 
everything before it), I could not help noticing the 
marvelous mingling of the blues and purples, relieved 
only by the tossing, flying, bursting, scattering ridges 
of foam. We had so circled around the Lake that it 
seemed now to be everywhere except directly on our 
right. The road ahead was so near the Lake, it looked 
as if a few rods nearer would tumble us into the water 
whose frightful fury was increasing every moment. 
There was no fence or railing between us and the Lake, 
and the banks were steep, but my confidence in Kit's 
good sense comforted me. " If she does make a sud- 
den lunge, it will be away from those awful waters," 
was my mental comment. Brave, faithful, little horse! 
Though there was a nervous quiver in every muscle of 
her body, and she hardly touched the ground, her step 
was so light and springy, she watched those white-caps 



MR. KAOLr/S U. S. A. 



127 



come rolling and dash themselves almost at her feet, 
yet she controlled herself from doing anything more 
harmful than giving a little jump now and then. John 
kept up a continued soothing talk to her, for he knew 
as well as I, that the instinct to give one leap and be 
off like a deer, was working strongly within her. 

We continued to drive on, watching eagerly for 
shelter. For some reason, this locality seemed rough- 
er, the farming was of ' the ordinary sort, and the 
houses we passed at intervals upon our right, were 
commonplace homes. There were barns, but they 
were closed, and we did not like to waste time by try- 
ing to hunt up their owners to ask permission to drive 
in, and then, perhaps, be refused. We were looking 
for an open shed where there could be no excuse for 
denying us a refuge, during the storm. As for the 
barns, we could besiege them as a last resort, but we 
were reluctant to intrude upon private homes until 
compelled to do so. We were well protected from rain, 
when not accompanied by too strong wind, and we 
kept hoping that, as John had suggested, the storm 
would spend its threatening off to the north. 

Our attention had been absorbed for some minutes 
in watching the way ahead, quieting Kit, and debating 
as to what was best to do, when a single bright shaft 
of golden light shot obliquely through the gloom, from 
the west, down into the middle of the Lake. It was 
so sudden, and so swift, it startled me. My first im- 
pression was that it was lightning, and I instinctively 
held my breath for an accompanying report. None 
came. Then I turned for the sun. A most curious 
spectacle was presented. It was as if a flaming sword 
had plunged through the western edge of the purple 
wall that still reached from water to sky, with such 



128 ^^IR- EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

force that it buried its point in the depths of the Lake. 
All around was dark except for the scintillations from 
this tapering sword of fire. But it was only for one 
instant. Then another sword of flame drove down into 
the center of a big black-hearted billow, cutting its 
frosty crest into fragments that were tossed defiantly 
upward in gleaming si)rays of jewels. Then came other 
sword-thrusts in swift succession, till rainbow waves, 
shivered into sparkling globules, swelled, and rolled, 
and plunged, into what looked like a lake of flame un- 
derlying and glinting through the turbulent blue of 
Erie. 

While this transformation scene was being wrought 
upon the water, a change quite as complete, if not as 
unusual, was going on in the western sky. The sun 
had cut and slashed the wall that had held him pris- 
oner for more than an hour, until its side edge was 
cleft into fragments, that trailed after the main mass 
which was moving in slow majesty northward. These 
fragments were rimmed, and stippled, and barred, with 
every shade and tint into which light can be resolved. 
These tints rapidly spread and grew into the dark body 
of the wall as it receded. They pierced it as with 
burning needle points, which presently turned into 
shafts of amber, and crimson, then melted into a sheet 
of gold that stretched, like a curtain, back of the wall, 
quickly changing its purple to blue, then to violet, and 
at last to fleecy silver, which the wind caught and 
tossed lightly heavenward. 

The wall was a huge body of purple still, and every 
moment its pace northward was accelerated. It could 
not escape, however, the destructive plunges of the 
fiery lances into its western border. By degrees, its 
whole sombre front assumed a lighter cast, a blue, 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



129 



through which presently showed, at intervals, a hint of 
light, then a glint, then a shimmer, and then — ! How 
shall I describe it ? The whole vast barrier, honey- 
combed with flames, burst apart, — separated into rag- 
ged blue fragments that hung there in space before an 
arching sky that bewildered the senses with its dazzling 
radiance as with heaps of burning opals, giving out in 
flames the myriad tints that had been gathering in 
their hearts for ages' A. S. A. 



ON HORSE THIEVES. 



TT THENEVER we stopped over night at a farm 
XiXl house, mother was almost certain to ask, at 
some time during the evening, if they kept the 
barn locked. If she got a reply in the negative, she'd 
follow up, woman like, with another question, and 
want to know if they never had any horses stolen. 
She kept Kit's welfare and safety constantly in mind. 
Her questions would get the old farmer reminiscent on 
the subject of stealing horses and many a tale did we 
hear after the supper things had been disposed of, and 
the bed-time pipe was being smoked Back at Dyer 
Station, in Indiana, when we first drove into that State, 
we discovered we were in the horse-thief's domain. 
Four had been stolen in this hamlet the week previous 
When we asked the German landlord what folks did 
when horses were taken, he said, " Oh veil, vat can ve 
do? Nodinks! Nodinks! Dat's vat ve does!" But 
when we reached Michigan, and while getting dinner, 
one noon, at White Pigeon, just over the line, I hap- 
pened to speak of the incidents at Dyer. "No bother 
now," said my host cheerily. ''You're in the State of 
Michigan!" Then he went on to tell of Michigan's 
having a " State Anti-Horse-thief Association." 

It seems that, for many years, the Wolverine farmers 
have supported the society with vigor, and since its 
organization, depredations have been greatly dimin- 



MR. EAGLE-S U. S. A. 



131 



ished. The State Association has officers in each 
county who have the appointing of "riders," and ex- 
ercise a general supervision over the local workings of 
the order. The "riders" are those whose duty it is to 
chase on the trail of thieves and pass word along the 
line. There is one for every town and hamlet. When 
a horse is missed, the farmer notifies the nearest 
"rider," and telegraphs to Headquarters. Thus, in a 
few hours, a score of officials will be covering every 
road within a hundred miles, while from both State and 
county offices circulars are being struck off and sent 
to the Chiefs of Police in all cities of the State and 
those bordering upon it. The system is manipulated 
upon a detective plan hard to excel, and compared to 
which the police aid from the small towns of a county 
is absolutely worthless. Thus it is next to impossible 
for a thief to successfully get away with an animal. 
Ohio has its Associations, and so does New York. 
The patrons say if they could afford no other luxury, 
they would not fail to keep up their membership in the 
Anti-Horse-thief, and it is not so very expensive either, 
a small per capita assessment sufficing to pay all ex- 
penses and keep a modest sum in the treasury. The 
State of Massachusetts can claim the pioneer society of 
this sort, the first one having been organized in Ded- 
ham in iSio. 

The skilled thief, however, will get his innings once 
in a while. One evening at a farm near Conneaut, the 
most easterly town in Ohio, the owner was showing 
us some splendid work-horses and stepping up to a big 
bay, "This fellow," he said, as he slapped the animal's 
heavy flank, "and his mate, there, were stole from me 
last Fall, but I got 'em back after going clear to 
Jamestown, N. Y." Of course, we were interested to 



132 MR- EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

know about it. " Well, it was 'long about the first of 
September. I got up one morning and went down into 
the pasture here, but they want no horses to be found. 
Then I see where the fence had been torn down, and I 
knowed the rest. Well, I didn't get no word for more 
than a month. I've a brother up to Buffalo that's a 
detective, and he wrote me to get over into the neigh- 
borhood o' Jamestown and he thought I'd find my 
horses somewheres there. I hitched up and drove all 
the way. It was a drive too. I was gone from home 
six weeks. Of course I was watching and hunting as 
I went along. I drove through them Pennsylvany 
mountains and into every out o' the way place where 
they was resorts for hard characters. Some times, I'd 
be three days without strikin' a house. I lost my way 
lots o' times and, oh, I had a dickens of a jaunt! 
But I was bound to get them horses if they was in the 
.territory. You know how 'tis. In the early days, 
they used to hang horse-thieves on sight or suspicion, 
fer horses was a farmer's all. And 'taint so much 
changed now," giving the big bay a caressing pat, "fer 
ye know a horse is everything to a farmer. He works 
'long with 'em and gits attached to 'em. Well, I haul- 
ed up at Jamestown after a while and they told me, 
first thing, they was two half-breeds drove in there a 
spell back and the policeman, being suspicious of 'em, 
sung out to 'em to stop as they was driving along the 
main street. For answer, the fellers jumped out an' 
run 'n got away. They told me the horses was so beat 
out 'twas no wonder the fellers trusted to their own 
legs. A livery stable had been keepin' the animals, 'n 
I went down there. I looked over the rows, more'n 
fifty I guess. Finally I sized up two, an' told 'em if 
those want mine 'twas no use. I stepped in 'tween 'em 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



133 



and sung out 'Bob 'n Jerry!' Clorry! Ye ouglit ter 
seen 'em neighin' an' whinnyin! They wuz so poor ye 
could almost see their bones! " 

We stopped over night at the home of William K. 
Phillips, a prosperous farmer living at West Junius, in 
Seneca county, New York. He was telling of a neigh- 
borhood genius of some years ago. 

" He was the greatest feller with horses I ever saw." 
said Mr. Phillips. " He had been in tl^we penitentiary 
for horse stealing, but while he was about here, some 
folks seemed to look upon him as not more than half- 
witted. It just seemed, however, as though that feller 
would take any horse and handle him any way he want- 
ed to. It appeared as if he could actually charm 'em. 
He always wore an old greasy vest, and in fussing with 
a horse, he'd always let 'em smell of that vest. They 
claim he had some kind of spice, or drug, he put on 
that, which horses liked. Anyhow, he'd never allow 
that vest to be washed. I remember once of a farmer 
coming along the road and seein' this feller layin' in a 
drunken snooze, and across the road was a great 
stallion feedin'. Well, the farmer was nigh scared to 
death, for no such beast as that is safe to have loose 
on a country highway. He roused up this feller, 
Jones, and asked him if he didn't have no more sense 
than to leave that stallion loose. Jones says, 'Don't 
ye worry. Thet there horse won't go three rods away 
from me I ' The farmer drove on a piece, and set and 
watched as much as three-quarters of an hour and, 
sure's you live, thet critter staid right in the close 
vicinity of Jones. It looked sorter's if Jones was a 
magician. " 

" Here's one that is pretty tough to tell, but it's 
true just the same: They was a lot of fellers talking 



134 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

one night at the tavern about losing horses and this 
Jones was hearin' the talk. One of the farmers said 
he'd bet fifty dollars nobody could steal his horse, and 
then he went on to tell that he always kept the doors 
locked and a big brindle bull-dog loose in the barn. 
Jones told 'em he could take the horse right out o' the 
barn any night he took a notion, and not get hurt. 
Well, of course, the farmer was certain he couldn't, 
and out with his wallet, put fifty into the landlord's 
hands and gave Jones the dare to go ahead. Well, 't 
went on for three months and folks had forgotten the 
bet, 'n got tired of askin' the farmer about the matter 
when, one mornin', sir, the horse was gone and the 
bulldog, too. They'd heard no noise nor anything 
during the night and no blood was 'round the premises. 
A couple days later, the farmer got a note tellin' him 
if he'd go to the depot, he could get his dog which had 
been shipped down in a crate from Auburn the day 
before. He went over to the station and there was 
his dog! Next morning, the farmer was told to be at 
the tavern at ten o'clock. He was there and at ten- 
thirty Jones come driving up in the farmer's wagon 
and behind the farmer's horse to get the fifty, — and he 
got it, too! But Jones, poor critter, is in a jail that'll 
keep him warm for some time. He died about four 
years ago. " 



AN IDEAL COLLEGE TOWN. 

DO NOT wonder that Clinton Scollard finds this 
town, for which he is named, an inspiration to 
his poetic soul, nor that Hamilton College has 
ground out some big men, nor that Houghton Semin- 
ary, hard by, is annually "finishing" handsome wives 
for the lusty Hamiltonians. 

It was the afternoon of September 12. We had been 
wending our way for an hour along the loveliest of tree- 
embowered roads, when we began to almost impercep- 
tibly, but gradually, descend, and suddenly, there 
opened upon us a view off over a town buried among 
the trees in the valley at the foot of the long slope 
while, in the distance beyond, the numerous hills were 
wearing a purplish hue in the rays of the afternoon 
sun. A quarter-mile more of descent and, on our left, 
at about half way down the grade, stood a most pecu- 
liar looking building. It was old-fashioned, large, and 
had been painted, at one time, a sort of dull yellow. 
Its solemn, bare walls, windows unrelieved by cornices 
or trimmings, scarred doors, and weather-beaten roof, 
gave the structure an appearance of having seen better 
days. As I sat and looked at it, this mute pile of vene- 
rable brick seemed to be saying valiantly to whatever 
barbarian might pass; "A little battered, but still 
eminently respectable thank you!" It was the main 
building of Hamilton College. 



136 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

We drove on down and were soon passing rows of 
College " Chapter Houses." They were painted in all 
colors of the rainbow, and, up in their cornices, or 
over doors, were fixed emblems which naught but 
worm-eaten Mythologies and the playful deviltry of the 
modern undergraduate's brain could ever have united 
in conjuring up. The only things that I ever knew of 
that could approach these crests and mottoes in utter 
unintelligibility were, possibly, the Turkish signs that 
plastered the Midway Plaisance at the time of the 
World's Fair in Chicago. We crossed a rude bridge 
over a mill-swamp, and drew up in front of a hotel in 
the public square at Clinton, N. Y. 

This is primarily and exclusively a College town. 
What business enterprises are carried on are the result 
of the fact that Hamilton College, Houghton Seminary, 
a quondam Normal school, and I don't know what else, 
are located here. The place is an enrapturing haunt 
for the man who seeks to steep his soul in the lore of 
former events. Within this wooded valley, where the 
residences are obscured by the lazy branches of ancient 
trees, the babble and bustle of the busy material world 
cannot enter. The streets are clean, the sidewalks 
nicely scoured, and the tin pans and pots that set about 
some of the old houses are stationed in that orderly, 
old-maidish way that indicate they may have been put 
there to remain for all time. The place seemed so 
ciuiet that the hum of a bee would have jarred the 
stillness. 

Folks, sometimes, get a wondering why the country 
life originates so many Presidents, judges, railway 
lawyers, financiers, and such; and why the country 
college sends out proportionately so many more cele- 
brated scholars than the learning-mills in our metro- 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



137 



politan centres. Clinton can reveal the reason. It is 
because the quiet, assuring, vigor-giving atmosphere 
of the trees, hills, birds, and brooks, tends to awaken 
real contemplation. This is a little community of 
scholars. The President of Hamilton knows personally 
every mischievous "undergrad" he meets, as he saunters 
statelily down town for his mail. Everybody is familiar 
with everybody else. Set Clinton down by the edge 
of a great city, with the Anna Helds and Yvette 
Guilberts to come trooping in at regular intervals, 
and where would her refined college influence be ? 
No, — men aren't dragged away here to exciting scenes. 
The wildest Freshman can not be in Clinton long be- 
fore he feels almost unconsciously a dignity and inter- 
est in the student life that he never thought it possible 
for him to possess. Did Samuel Kirkland think of 
these things when he was doing missionary work here 
with the Oneida Indians, in the eighteenth Century? 
when, in 1793, he established Hamilton Oneida Acad- 
emy? It was an important event when this institution 
was set up in what was then " the western wilderness." 
General Washington was interested in the enterprise, 
and Baron Steuben, with a troop of Continentals, came 
here and marched up the hill to lay the corner stone of 
the new Academy. By 181 1, the school had become 
of so much consequence that a college was talked of 
and, in 181 2, Hamilton Oneida Academy became 
Hamilton College, named in honor of the victim of 
Weehawken. So Hamilton, in the list of American 
colleges, stands twenty-eighth in point of seniority, 
antedating the University of the City of New York by 
nineteen years, Lafayette by thirteen, and Trinity by 
eleven. Since its establishment, some men of great 
brain-thew have been graduated here: Gerrit Smith, of 



138 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



Anti-Slavery fame; Asahel C. Kendrick, the Greek 
scholar; Herrick Johnson, the Chicago divine; Charles 
Dudley Warner; Ormsby M. Mitchell, the astronomer; 
Lyman Abbott; Elihu Root, the New York lawyer; 
W. H. H. Miller, ex-President Harrison's Attorney 
General; John Dean Caton, lately deceased, of the Su- 
preme Court of Illinois; Theodore Dwight;'John Jay 
Knox; Clinton Scollard, the poet; and Elliot Anthony, 
the Chicago jurist; are among the number. Some 
time ago, the trustees decided to get new life into the 
institution. They went out to Chicago and fetched 
back Melancthon Woolsey Stryker, L. H. D., D. D., 
L. L. D. ; and he is just as good a man as his name 
and titles. Dr. Stryker was inaugurated, January 17, 
1893, and since his advent, many progressive measures 
have been put in force. He declared, at the outset: 

"I venture to insist that our foremost duty is to 
secure to the chairs already existing an income which 
shall be more respectable recognition of the labors of 
their occupants. $1500 has, hitherto, been the pay of 
our full professors." 

Think of it! A man begins a professorship here at, 
say thirty, or forty. He has spent four years cram- 
ming his caput in the American college, and perhaps 
three more in a European University. He has used 
every cent he could earn by tutoring, taught in Summer 
schools during vacations, and his parents, if he had 
any, have nigh bankrupted themselves in supplying 
funds. With a feeble constitution, weak and bespec- 
tacled eyes, and a great, twelve-bastioned brain, he 
comes to Clinton, bids a complete farewell to the world, 
goes up on the hill to the College and works like a 
Spartan for a salary of about half what a soap drummer 
receives! I honor Dr. Stryker for his position in this 



MU F.AfU.E'S U. S. A. 



139 



matter of salaries, and he has already brought about 
some reforms. 

Houghton Seminary is a rookery-like sort of a place, 
romantically conceded within an inclosure of sombre 
birches, oaks, and pines that do not gossip, and no 
lovelier spot could be created for the collegian to tryst 
with his slim-waisted, fawn-eyed Seminary maiden. 
For all practical purposes in this line, it is admirably 
adapted. The institution has been in existence since 
'61, and the daughters of some of the best families of 
the State have been mentally and matrimonially devel- 
oped here. Ex-President Cleveland has had to serve 
as a friend and advertiser for so many educational 
foundries that it seems almost a strain on patience to 
drag him in here, but I have to do it. Rose Elizabeth 
Cleveland, his literary sister, lifted Houghton from the 
plane of obscurity by graduating here in 1886. A 
niece (whoever she may be), also attended Houghton. 

The pagan will thrive and fatten in the very midst 
of all spiritual and aesthetic surroundings. A couple 
of college fellows who were spending the Summer in 
Clinton were playing ball in the square. A town boy 
came along and soon managed to take part. He got 
one of the students to put on the catching gloves, and 
the way he socked the " in-shoots " and "drops" at 
him was a caution. After a while, the town boy got 
heated and sat himself under a tree to cool off. As he 
mopped his face with his shirt sleeve, he chanced to 
see a book beside him. It belonged to one of the col- 
legians. He picked it up and casually turned a leaf or 
two, then, looked at the back, and saw but one word 
he could read. Turning the book over and over in his 
grimy hand, he finally exclaimed, in the most disgust- 
ed tones, "Virgil! Virgil! Whether is Virgil?" 



THE MEANEST MAN. 



ON September 7th we took one of our longest and 
hardest drives. The road was rough and hilly. 
We counted on finding a hotel at East Winfield, 
N. Y. About an hour before we reached there, a cold, 
drizzling rain set in, accompanied by a thick fog. 
Night began to settle down when we drew up to the first 
house of a little hamlet of a dozen or so, nice-looking 
country homes, and enquired of a man who was attend- 
ing to his chores, for a hotel. 

"They aint no hotel here," he said. 

" No hotel ! " I repeated in dismay, -'and we can't 
see a rod ahead of us ! What shall we do? " 

" There's one two miles west," the man in the barn- 
yard added. 

" But there are railroad crossings, and we would 
drive right on to the tracks without knowing it, in this 
fog," I said in a low voice to John. 

I thought hard for a minute, then I exclaimed with 
determination: "John, here are more than a dozen 
homes of well-to-do people, and I know some of these 
folks will take us in over night. They will not refuse 
a middle-aged woman like me. In all the journey we 
have travelled, we have not had serious difficulty in in- 
ducing some private family to keep us over night, and 
here we are with twelve households to apply to." 

" I wonder if we couldn't get put up at one of these 
places here! " called John to the man in the yard. 



MR. "EAGLE'S U. S. A. I4I 

"Wall,— I kinder think ye'd better try 'n find a tav- 
ern 'fore it gits plum dark. When it gits dark it'll be 
dark," drawled the man. 

" It's almost as dark as it can be now," I whispered 
to John. "And that railroad over there must run close 
to the carraige road all the way to West Winfield. Kit 
would never bear a train running so close! We know 
that. I am going to stay at one of these houses. 
I am tired half to death, and as hungry as I can be," I 
declared, throwing aside the rubber lap-robe and mak- 
ing ready to alight. " You stay here, and I'll see 
what I can do " (stepping out). 

"All right," sighed John, resignedly. "You will 
have your way, but I don't believe you will succeed." 

The first two places I called at, the ladies said their 
husbands were ill, and they seemed quite polite in ex- 
cusing themselves. Then I went to a long story-and- 
a-half house, having several large red barns and other 
out-buildings in the rear. I walked up to the side 
door and rang the bell. A man of about fifty, I should 
judge, opened the door. I explained briefly our situa- 
tion and, offering to pay any price he might ask, lite- 
rally begged a shelter for the night, — merely a shelter 
— would not ask for food, or stable for our horse — we 
would find that elsewhere; a lounge, cot, or, I would 
rest on the floor if only we could be sheltered from the 
rain, fog, and the darkness without. A lady, evidently 
the man's wife, sat in a rocker near the door at the 
right. It was apparently their family sitting-room 
She seemed interested, and I was sure she was willing 
to accommodate us, but the man demurred without 
vouchsafing any special excuse. 

" I am very sorry to trouble you," I added depreca- 
tingly, " but — " 



142 MR. EAGLE-S U. S. A 

"Well, — it would be a trouble," he interrupted with 
such sharp decisiveness that with a " Beg your pardon. 
Good evening," I turned and went down the walk. 
Even then, I could not believe that it was reserved for 
a hamlet in eastern New York to be the first on our 
trip from Illinois to refuse us one night's lodging. 
"Some one in all these comfortable homes has heart 
enough to be willing to put himself out that much 
through sympathy for a woman of my age," I still in- 
sisted, as I reported to John my last failure. 

" I tell you, mother, you are wasting your time on 
sentiment," John urged. "There are plenty of peo- 
ple who don't care a rap who is out in the storm, so 
long's they're comfortably housed. These folks are of 
that kind, I know by the way that man back here in 
the barnyard answered. It's getting dark as pitch. Do 
get in here and let's go on." 

" No, I won't give up yet," and I started toward an- 
other house. Failing at this, I tried another, and an- 
other, and another, till there was not one more to 
assail, then, crestfallen and heart-sick, I went back to 
where John and Kit were impatiently waiting. Kit 
greeted me with a joyful neigh, for she thought I was 
surely come to take her to a stable. She had learned, 
long since, that these halts at night-fall meant both 
hay and oats. So confident was she that her day's 
work was done, she tried to turn into a barnyard. It 
went sorely against me to have to force her on two or 
three miles further. 

"Are you satisfied now about these people?" John 
questioned, when I was once more seated in the phae- 
ton. 

"Yes, lam, I answered firmly. "But, oh John, 
just think how terrible it would be to be cast among 



MR. EAGLE'S U, S. A. 



143 



such people with no money ! I really do not believe 
they would care the slightest if we were run over by a 
train, nor what becomes of us. It is my first experi- 
ence with such a community, and my confidence in 
human sympathy has had a tumble, — but, John, how 
dark it is! I can hardly see Kit. This is dangerous. " 

" Here, you take the lines. I am going to get out 
and walk ahead. Then I can hear a train before it 
gets very near, so you needn't worry about that." 

John disappeared in the mist, and I had to trust to 
Kit to keep the way, for I could not see, however hard 
J strained my eyes. But I knew John was near and on 
guard, although I could neither see nor hear him. 
What a comfort that was ! 

In this manner, we groped through the fog, the rain, 
and darkness to West Winfield, where we saw the wel- 
come light shining through the windows of the Trav- 
eler's Home. 

" Heaven bless the wanderer's home, the Hotel ! " I 
inwardly exclaimed, as I handed the lines to an hostler 
and alighted. 

Later, I mentioned to the landlady the unfeeling re- 
buff I had received from that middle aged man back in 
East Winfield. 

"What sort of looking man was he? " she asked. 

I described him and his home briefly. She laughed. 

"No wonder you thought he was heartless," she 
said. "He's a noted character all around here. A 
year ago, a neighbor woman was driving by his house, 
when his dog came out and Jumped at her horse. The 
animal was scared, whirled, and upset the carriage. 
The lady was thrown out and had her hip dislocated. 
A couple of men happened to drive along just then, 
;;iul saw the woman lying beside the road, too stunned 



144 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



to even call for help. It was in the edge of evening, 
and they went to old Crope's house to get a lan- 
tern. Well, if you'll believe it, that man would not 
even loan the lantern so's they could take care of that 
woman ! The woman sued him for ten thousand dollars 
damages. The lantern story was told in the trial, and 
the verdict was against him. He appealed to the 
Supreme Court, and I believe it hasn't been settled yet. 
And that makes me think. A few days ago, they had 
a church social at old Crope's, and the neighbors did 
enjoy going in and muddying up his carpets! They 
said he looked all the evening as if 'twas wringing his 
very heart-strings to have to furnish all that cake and 
stuff to the neighbors! " A. S. A. 



RICHFIELD SPRINGS. 



THE Summer-resort guide book, and the Summer- 
resort gossip in the metropolitan papers — and the 
reality ! 
"Well, where is the gorgeousness? " we were asking 
as we drove into Richfield Springs, by the western ap- 
proach to the main street. We could see nothing re- 
markably different from the many other towns we had 
passed through in this section of eastern New York. 
On our left was an old tavern whose weather-beaten 
sign bore the words: "Richfield House." We turned 
into the yard and put up our horse. The Richfield 
House had once served as the sole inn of the vicinity, 
— at the time when Richfield Springs was just an ordi- 
nary hamlet in every way, — but when, about 3870, 
modern bonifaces descended upon the place, erected 
Summer hotels, and began to buy up columns in New 
York papers, this establishment was relegated to dis- 
use. It serves now chiefly as a connecting link be- 
tween the old and the new Richfield. While waiting 
dinner in the front room, the " bar " of past days, we 
noticed a yellowed parchment hanging, on the wall. 
Upon inspection it proved to be a deed, made in 
1731, conveying, "in the Province of New York, a 
parcel of land," on which the present village is located. 
It was a curious, old document, setting forth, in the 
Old English hand, with all the words the acute convey- 



146 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



ancer could conjure, the "metes and bounds." A 
fierce-looking woman presently came in and announced 
in a loud, stingy voice: "Meal's ready!" We 
walked out into the low-ceilinged dining-room. There 
we found about twenty others. From the talk, I 
judged them to be musicians at the large hotels, or 
clerks in local shops. The fierce woman strode around 
among the guests, and set the dishes down with a crash, 
as if she were feeding a gang of convicts. During the 
eating, one fellow had the temerity to ask for another 
potato. "Aint none! " she declared, in a tone sugges- 
tive of war if he pressed the matter. My tea presently 
gave out, but I glanced at that Amazon, and she looked 
so sanguinary, she was almost six feet high, that I 
thought it best to go without tea rather than suffer 
danger of extermination. 

After dinner, I set out for a little jaunt about the 
town. In perhaps a three minutes' walk straight down 
the street, I was suddenly looking upon the Richfield 
Springs of today. It seemed as if I had dropped from 
a staid, sleepy, pastoral domain, into a fairy gar- 
garden of plashing fountains, gay flowers and splen- 
didly kept lawns. On either side of the street were 
parks surrounding a dozen huge, frame hotels. These 
were painted in gaudy colors, from an evident effort 
to create a blaring impression of enormous prosperity 
and liveliness. They were placed back from the street 
so far, that, viewing the town from the west, as we 
had done, nothing whatever could be seen of this dash- 
ing, smashing array. The buildings and grounds were 
certainly not so located as to advertise the spot in any 
practical or harmonious sense, for they were huddled 
together, as I say, far back from the street. Two 
blocks comprised the entirety of "Richfield Springs," 



MK EAGI.F/S U. S. A. 



147 



which is situated in the northern edge of Otsego 
county, 100 miles due west of Albany. Architecturally, 
there is nothing about the hotels that is attractive. 
Great, long, three, and four, story structures they 
look like a species of warehouse. To my left was the 
American. Opposite were the Earlington, and the 
Kendallwood, each accommodating about three hun- 
dred. Beyond the American, on the same side of the 
street, was the Spring House, which was the largest of 
all the hotels, and the pioneer as well, the principal 
"springs" being upon its grounds. The parks were 
filled with rustic settees and benches. It is here that 
the guests stroll about, and lounge, after they have 
taken their course of treatment at the springs' bathing 
apartments. The cures effected by these waters are 
said to be really remarkable, and it is claimed that 
there is more sulphurated hydrogen in them than in 
any others in the United States. Richfield, as a "re- 
sort," has an immense vogue, and, in the season, from 
three to five thousand people are here. A glance at 
the hotel registers will show some of the best known 
names in the country, as regards people of society. 
Indeed, the place ranks next to Saratoga in fashionable 
consequence. 

Were it not, however, for the drives that are af- 
forded, the boarder at Richfield would perish of cnnui^ 
for there is certainly little that is picturesque, or novel, 
in the location of the town, set down, as it is, in a sort 
of bowl-like depression in what was manifestly, not so 
many pears ago, a region af scrub pines and swamp. 
Candarago Lake, near the town, is an insignificant bit 
of water, and very like a mill pond. If one will jump 
on a coach though, and ride off eastward toward 
Cherry Valley, the scenes of the Indian massacres of 



t4S 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S A. 



1777, he will soon come to hills affording delightful 
views. Southeastward is Cooperstuwn, at the head of 
Otsego Lake, which latter is beautiful in the truest 
sense. 

This locality was the home of the novelist, James 
Fenimore Cooper, and the lake is the " Glimmerglass" 
of his " Deerslayer. " The whole country.about is rich 
in reminders of the once popular litterateur. A move- 
ment is in progress for the restoration and preservation 
of the private estate owned by him. The property 
comprised about five acres, and the project is to put 
this, as nearly as possible, in its condition at the time 
the owner was alive. The place will still be owned, as 
it is now, by the descendants, but will be open to the 
public. The only member of tlie family, however, who 
bears the family name, is Miss Richard Cooper, the 
daughter of the novelist, and she is nearly eighty. 
Probably one reason why this effort to memorialize the 
Cooper estate, has been so long of evolution is due, in 
a measure, to the personality of James Fenimore 
Cooper. He lived like a recluse, was forbidding to his 
neighbors, and made himself, in their eyes, a being to be 
looked upon with the awe that might have characterized 
the worship of Jove. There was none of the kindly pres- 
ence of Longfellow or Holmes It is no wonder that 
the townspeople have never been very enthusiastic in 
referring to him. 

Old men, crippled from various rheumatic and di- 
gestive disorders, were hobbling about. Middle-aged 
men with silk hats peranibuk^ted the walks. These, 
together with children and whole armies of young 
women, composed the Richfield Springs colony as I saw 
it, while standing on the steps of the Spring House. 
But the young men. Where, oh where were they? 



MR EAGLE'S O. S. A. 



149 



There you could see the young ladies, sitting disconso- 
lately on the verandas, and hooking off aimlessly and 
vacantly over the street. Others were majestically 
promenading back and forth, or, huddled away in cor- 
ners, were listlessly turning the pages of novels. A 
few, mostly of thoroughly matured years, were cro- 
cheting. My attention was presently drawn to a couple 
on a not-far-away settee. One was a slender brunette, 
handsome of face, with a picture hat, and stunning 
green gown. She was gotten up in the very latest Pa- 
risian e.xquisiteness. Her companion was excessively 
fetching in a pink costume. All the expense that they 
could conceive of was evidenced in their whole make- 
up, even to their sun-shades ane daintily moulded pat- 
ent leather boots. Their conversation ran thus: 

She of the green (looking wearily about and rapping 
her toe against her sunshade): "Oh dear! " 

She of the pink (puttidg her be ringed hand to her 
cheek and sighing) : " My I " 

" I don't know what t() do! " 

" Isn't it awful? " (digging her sun-shade into the 
floor.) 

" I wish papa would take me to some other place." 

" Going to wear your new Felix at the hop tonight?" 

"Yes" (wearily), " oh, I wish there 'd be some men 
there. " 

" I wish Jack were here ! " 

" /sfi' ^ it awful ! " 

"Awful!" 

"What lovely lace that is! " 

" I think it's pretty." 

" Very!" 

(Yawning) "Oh dear!" 

" Mercy ! " 



15° 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



"I'm bored to death ! " 

" Nothing but grandpas and infants! " 

(With gusto) "Wouldn't it be good to see a real live 
man? " 

" I should think so!" 

"Oh, there's a sweet costume!" 

" Her hat is too small." 

"Think so!" 

"Oh dear! " 

"Oh dear!" 

And so on, ad perpetuitatem ad nauseam. 

I asked the hotel clerk's opinion of the drought of 
young men. It was this: " Oceans of these society 
bucks aint got the scads, and those that have, say taint 
swift enough here!" 

Toward the middle of the afternoon, when we had 
left Richfield Springs, and were on our way eastward 
toward Cherry Valley, as we were descending a long 
hill, we heard the rattle of wheels behind us. We 
looked around and beheld an expensive carriage 
drawn by a pair of big bays. We turned aside a bit 
that this imposing spectacle might have full swing. As it 
passed, we noticed the clanking pole chains, the silver- 
mounted harness, the crest on the brougham, and 
that seated therein were a couple of middle-aged dow- 
agers, one wearing purple silk, the other black. It was 
exceedingly hot, but there on the box was the coach- 
man in a high hat and blue, brass-buttoned coat. The 
Obit fit was exactly as it would have been if seen on Fifth 
Avenue. The sun blazed down on the coachman's un- 
protected eyes; his coat, fastened tightly, was suffo- 
cating him; perspiration stood on his cheeks, it had 
melted his high collar, but his lips were set with forti- 
tude. Here, among rocky fields, tumble-down farm- 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



151 



houses, and simple, rural poverty, this city manifesta- 
tion seemed to constitute an insult to the inhabitants. 

As we went along I thought of how those pudgy 
females had sat as they passed us, not lazily thrown 
back, but stiffly and uncomfortably upright, as if, with 
bated breath, a world beheld them. I recalled the 
classification some iconoclast once made with regard 
to certain denizens of Uncle Sam's domain; 

Five stages constitute American royalty, viz: 

First generation : The leathery peasant toiling in 
European fields. 

Second generation: The son, in America, is :he am- 
bitious fortune maker. 

Third generation: The college graduate. 

Fourth generation: The Willy boy. 

Fifth generation: Paresis and Bloomingdale. 



THE PROMISED LAND. 



SEPTEMBER 15th was a day so perfect there was 
nothing left to wish for. (In addition, it was 
John's birthday). Everything was washed spic 
and span clean by the rain of the night before. The 
very sky seemed to have had a fresh scrubbing, it was 
so clear and bright. There was an elixir in the air 
that set every nerve tingling with delight, and made 
the climbing of the long, the very long hill over which 
our rdute lay, a pleasure continuous instead of a tedious 
task. Up and up we went, but we were in no hurry, 
and Kit was such a fast walker that we made good 
progress. She did not mind climbing hills, so long as 
we allowed her to take her own time and gait. She 
took a steady, even pull, except when she reached a 
sharp pitch, then her ambition would be fired, and she 
would dig her toes into the stony road bed, and go 
with a vim that made the veins stand out on her legs 
like cords. Faster and faster would she, as John 
called it, "scrabble," until she reached the summit. 
Then she would stop and look around at us for some 
sign of approval, saying in language as plain to us as 
human speech, "Havn't I done well ? " We usually 
carried a little store of apples that we picked up by the 
road side, and these we gave her as rewards for any- 
thing especially hard that she was required to do; and 
this happened very frequently since we entered the 
hilly State of New York. 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S , A. 



153 



Nearly all the forenoon, we had plodded upward, 
catching, every now and then, views of charming bits 
of landscape, but we had no idea of what lay ahead of 
us. Sections of forest groves and orchards bordering 
the road-way obstructed our look-out much of the 
time. We were not even aware that we were nearing 
the end of the long ascent until, after an exceptionally 
steep climb, we rounded a curve shaded by trees on either 
side, and suddenly found ourselves in an open space — 

"Oh-o-h I " I Cried under my breath, "Whoever 
saw anything like that ! " 

A mighty door seemed to have been flung aside for 
us, disclosing a new world — reaching east and west — 
to where the sky shuts down ; to the north, where 
peaks of blue melt into clouds of gray ; to the south, 
I forgot to look. 

" Jee — rusha ! " exclaimed John, "this is sassy, 
surely ! But where is the river ? Oh yes, I see, it is 
hidden away down there among the trees." 

"Well, I can think of nothing, nothing but that ex- 
pression, 'flowing with rnilk and honey. ' What a spec- 
tacle ! Isn't it glorious ! That great range of hills, 
and the distant mountains! Oh, it is beautiful ! Beau- 
tiful ! " 

"Well — the half has not been told about the Mo- 
Hawk valley, but," he exclaimed in the next breath, 
"what do you think about some dinner? Here's a 
hotel. You didn't see that did you ? F m hungry. 
Gracious, but 'twould be cheap, keeping you among 
the mountains. You'd forget to eat ! " 

"Well, if you don't let me alone now for a minute, 
I'll torment you good when you want to stop and ad- 
mire those lake scenes. You rave over those just as 
much as I do over the mountains; just as much." 



154 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S A. 



A solitary frame house, two stories, white, with 
green blinds, a door in the middle of the side facing 
the highway on the south, a one-story ell on the east. 
This was the "Prospect House." Here we stopped for 
dinner. There was no other dwelling in sight along 
the road, and all things sloped away from it in such a 
fashion that it impressed me as being placed on the 
topmost pinnacle of the world. 

After a quiet dinner by ourselves, John and I were 
led the way by our kindly host out on to the back pi- 
azza. 

"Here's a view that takes with most everybody who 
has any eye f(M- beauty," he remarked, as we stood 
spell-bound before the remarkable scene. "I've lived 
here now these ten year," he went on, ' and all I want 
is to die here. I haint got no health any more. I 
give up a year back. Rheumatiz has broke me all up. 
This place used ter be full to runnin' over every sum- 
mer, but this season I had ter deny takin' anybody. 
Lots o' folks drive over every day or so, from Richfield 
and Sharon Springs. Most on 'em think there's no 
place like it." 

The first bewildering surprise being past, we seated 
ourselves in some blue painted chairs and studied the 
scene at our leisure. 

Down the long, easy slope northward our eyes trav- 
eled to where the lazy Mohawk was stealing along be- 
tween buttressed banks, guarded by tall trees, about 
three miles distant. Only now and then did it betray 
its course in bits of glinting silver that might have 
been taken for little pools or creeks. So stealthy were 
its windings that it reminded us of the old-time wily 
possessors of this lovely valley. No wonder they had 
fought to keep it as for their lives, and that almost 



MR. EAGIK'S U S A. 



^55 



every rood of its territory marked some especially dar- 
ing- or cruel deed. It was easy to glance backward a 
hundred years and see them skulking in ambush, singly 
or in groups, to pick off our struggling forefathers. 
Scenes like this make us feel something of a thankful- 
nessfor the heritage that the colonists have left us. 

All along the valley, east and west, as far as we 
could see, there were faims outlined like checker 
boards. Their square fields of many shaded trees, 
green, and russet, and brown, dotted with patches of 
cardinal (the stubble of the buckwheat), showing viv- 
idly in the clear atmosphere. To the north, these 
farms tilled up the broad, gentle ascent, to the foot- 
hills of the Adirondacks some thirty miles. Beyond 
their tall peaks of hazy blue, struggled a broken, rug- 
ged line of gray that our host claimed was the Green 
Mountains of Vermont, about fifty miles distant. This 
was a long stretch for the naked eye to traverse, but, 
by straining our gaze to the utmost, we could occa- 
sionally make out distinct mountain shapes for a mo- 
ment, then our transient strength of vision would fail, 
and we could see only the cloudlike gray that circled 
and reached into the northern sky as if a part of it. 

This day and this scene stand forth in my experience 
alone. Newness and vastness are the dominant influ- 
ences, but it is the newness of beauty and the vastness 
of beauty. Beauty fills the world and has just been 
cieated. A jubilant sense of its presence steals into 
our souls through every avenue, making us one with it 
as we gaze. The sky, vaulted to such a marvellous 
height above us, lends itself to this unparalleled illusion 
of vastness. It is not a vastness, however, that in- 
duces awe, but, on the contrary, carries a sweeping 
gladness that makes one delighted to be alive — just 



156 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



to be alive. Nothing looks small, common, or old. 
Even the Adirondacks that are silhouetted against that 
cloud of gray look as if they might have grown out of 
that dark mist that hovers about their feet. What a 
spot to dream away life in ! From here, it is but half 
a step to the infinite. One can reach and grasp the 
I'^.ternal Hand. Every breath wafts a prayer — a prayer 
f)( love, and joy — or a song of praise. Not only is 
it a delight to live, simply to live, bnt it must be a 
delight to die — which is only a step over that border 
line of gray into the alluring blue beyond. 

—A. S. A. 



AMONG THE HOP PICKERS. 

THE counties of Cayuga, Onondaga, Cortland, 
Madison, Chenago, Otsego and Schoharie, State 
of New York, comprise the hop region. More 
of these strong-scented herbs are grown here than in 
any other section this side of the Pacific coast. 

Harvesting begins late in August, and lasts for six 
weeks or more. ' Though the work of picking hops is 
one of the most tedious occupations that could be 
devised, many lively girls and boys welcome the open- 
ing of the season with great joy. Hop picking is con- 
sidered one grand, prolonged picnic. From Rochester, 
Geneva, Auburn, Syracuse, Rome, Troy, Cohoes, Al- 
bany, and many other towns, come scores of merry 
young people, to spend a month in the country among 
the vines. The labor is paid by the piece, and so 
wearisome, that a slow picker will not make over forty 
cents a day, yet, it matters little to the majority. The so- 
cial features make up for small wages. In a field of 
less than an acre, probably fifty pickers will be at work, 
and from sun-up to sun-down, the air vibrates with the 
wagging of tongues, song, or laughter. In the even 
ing comes the dance. Sometimes it takes place in the 
barn, often at the nearest tavern. There is always 
some genius who can saw on a fiddle, and this poor 
mortal is kept busy. Formalities are dispensed with. 
The idea is: get acquainted and have a good time. 



158 



MR EAGLfS U S. A. 



The dance starts about 8.30 and by 12 is usually at an 
end. The measures are of a most primitive descrip- 
tion. The good old "square" dance is the favorite, 
and is gone through over and over. The waltz 
and schottische do not find much favor. What your 
hop picker likes are: "Whirl your lady once around, " 
and "Join yer pardner in 'er railroad swing. " When 
the last tune is emitted from the rheumatic violin, 
comes the time for the walk home, over the moonlit 
roads. Many a romance that ends at the altar has its 
beginning in this tramp across the hills and hollows. 

We had the honor of attending one of these dances. 
The evening of September 15, we stopped for the 
night at a cross-roads tavern in upper Schoharie coun- 
ty. This tavern, a church, and three dwellings com- 
prised the muncipality of Carlisle. During the even- 
ing we noticed that the upper rooms were being lighted, 
and that everybody seemed to be scurrying around as if 
some unusual event were to take place. Then the 
landlady came up and told mother that they were 
goi g to have a dance, and said she hoped it would 
not disturb us. "A dance disturb us ? " I exclaimed, 
'Well, I guess not ! Bring on the clans." 

The wagons soon began to roll up to the door, 
and troops of young folks to tumble up stairs. Most 
of them were bright, rosy-cheeked, and of ages rang- 
ing from eighteen to twenty-six. Three fellows in 
rusty black presently arrived, and made directly for 
the dancing hall. Each solemnly parted the tails of his 
Prince Albert, sat down, and with a professional 
glance over the hall, began to unwrap his instru- 
ment. A violin, a bass viol, and battered cornet con- 
stituted the orchestra. 

The leader pulled his bow across his violin, and tore 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



159 



off a trial screech of weird, unearthly pitch. The girls 
flung off their hats and rushed pell-mell into the hall, 
which, by the way, was a large, low-ceilinged apartment 
that had been constructed at the time the tavern was 
built, in 18 1 2, and was designed for this exclusive pur- 
pose. The floor manager , a little whiffet of perhaps 
thirty-five, was flying about as chipper as a bantam. 
He was resplendent in white tie, paper collar, and 
black 'cut-a-vvay," and determined, as he phrased it, 
to see that things "went all right." He took a last 
grand survey of the house, jumped upon the little plat- 
form at the end of the room, and yelled, "Git yer 
pardners ! " Out the couples sprang to the middle of 
the floor, down hustled the little man, and in a trice 
had collected five cents from each wight, and skipped 
back to his perch. "Letter go," he bawled, and op- 
erations began, to the honored "Campbells are Com- 
ing." The crowd was soon perspiring freely. The 
boys went in as if at a wrestling match. The girls 
responded with equal ardor, and the way their skirts 
flew was equal to the gyrations of a team of quadrille 
dancers at an extravaganza. "Forward to the center, 
and cross right hands!" "Chassez all ! " and "Gran' 
right 'n left ! " followed bewilderingly. They were 
called by a one-eyed, freckled youth, who, with a gen- 
erously compact wad of "chewin" in his right cheek, 
stood proudly forth, satisfied that there was one occa- 
sion when he could be "ther hull thing." The tune 
suddenly changed. What its exact title was, if it ever 
had any title, I do not know, but the instant I heard it 
my thoughts reverted to scenes that used to take place 
at regular periods, out in far-away Illinois. There 
was a "fiddler and caller" from off the Lacon "bottoms" 
who was a lover, yea, a downright worshiper of this 



l6o MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

identical -'tune. " He would play it hour after hour, 
and he had the habit of "calling" in verses. As near 
as I can recollect them, they ran something like this • 

" S'lute yer ladies all tergether, 
Ladies opposite the same ; 
Hit ther lumber with yer leather ! 
Balance all an' swing yer dame. 
Bunch ther ladies in ther middle ! 
Circle lads an' do-se-do — 
Pay attention to ther fiddle ! 
Swing her 'roun' an' off we go ! 

First four forward ! Back to places ! 
Second feller ! Shuffle back ! 
Now you've got it down to cases! 
Swing 'em 'till their trotters crack! 
Gents all right a heel an' toein ! 
Swing 'em ; kiss 'em ef you kin ! 
On to nex', an' keep a goin' 
'Till yo hit your pards agin! 

Gents to center ; ladies 'round 'em. 
Form a basket; balance all ! 
Whirl yer gals to where yer found 'em! 
Promenade around ther hall! 
Balance to yer pards an' trot 'em 
'Round the circle double quick ! 
Grab an' kiss 'em while you've got 'em! 
Hold 'em to it if they kick! 

Ladies' lef hand to yer sonnies ! 
Alaman! Gran' right an' left ! 
Balance all an' swing yer honnies, 
Pick 'em up an' feel their heft ! 



MR. EAGLE-S U S. A. l6i 

Promenade like skeery cattle! 
Balance all, an' swing yer sweets ! 
Shake yer spurs an' make 'em rattle! 
Keno ! Promenade ter seats." 

The rear of the hall began to gradually fill with the 
proper array of "dead tough mugs," who, too awkward 
to do any cavorting, and too thirsty to keep it up if 
they could, hung to the benches near the door, so that 
they could readily hustle down stairs as occasion re- 
quired. The floor manager presently came forward to 
where some of Ihese fellows were talking and exclaimed 
with authority, "Gentlemen, keep quiet ! Keep quiet!" 
One chap told him to "go to — ! " but the manager 
wasn't ruffled. I learned later that he was quite a 
"scrapper." He told me he "had always been able to 
take care of himself in a mix-up. Yes, you're dod darned 
right I know how to run this thing," he proudly con- 
cluded. "Its five cents a corner, 'n all got to ante 
afore they gits ter dance. I wont hev no ungentlemanly 
conduck. I cal'late ter conduck this think right. Say, 
git a pardner 'n come in." I took his advice, and dur- 
ing the next intermission I besought me a "pardner." 
All the pretty girls were, of course, "engaged" for the 
entire evening to the same swain. It was a case of 
"Johnny wasn't in it for a single minute ! " and I had 
to content myself with a sylph whose claylike counte- 
nance, marked by a pug nose, liberal mouth and shiv- 
erish eyes betokened the ould dart I threw on my 
most "society" air, ran my fingers through my hair to 
give it the proper "roach," and sat down beside my 
enchantress. I was saying that I was "from Buffalo," 
when the prompter called, "All ready!" and we were 
off. In trying to tell me her name, she had got as 



j62 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

far as "Mary," — when "Salute your pardners ! "cut 
the rest of the announcement. I had'nt learned her 
title yet, for mind you, introductions were not re- 
quired in this grand ball. If you had sufficient self- 
assertion, you could get a companion without that for- 
mality. She had come to the first letter of what I 
imagined was intended to be her "last name," when 
"Swing yer pardners !" sounded, and she grabbed me 
as a drowning sailor does a spar, and whirled me until 
I saw stars. In getting breath, she panted, "Mary 
Moon." This somewhat astronomical information 
helped to break the ice. I soon learned that "Mary" 
"come from Syracuse," and that prior to the "hop sea- 
son," she had served with a family of that city as pie 
molder. "Like hop picking?"! asked. "Bet che! 
lots of fun I " she answered with gusto. "Missed haf 
yer life 'f yer aint never picked hops ! " She tucked 
her gum into a remote corner of her mouth. "Why, 
its a holy picnic ! We just don't do nothin' much, 
'cept dance 'n carry on. An' say I We put weeds 'n 
things in among the hops. It helps to fill up ! But 
Lord: we don't pretend to earn wages ! I bet I aint 
earned a cent above a dollar this whole week. Its fun 
dancin,' though ! Lots o' fellers 'n dancin' ! That 
suits my style ! " 

Fast and furious, the swinging and the whirling went 
on until twelve o'clock. Then the musicians began to 
prepare for departure. While they were crowding out, 
a couple of "dead tough mugs" got into an argument 
at the head of the stairs. One gave the other a push, 
sending him in a tumbled heap clear to the bottom. 
The girls began to scream and things looked interest- 
ing, but companions hustled away him-of-the fall-down, 
and though the fight talk was loud and long, nothing 



MK. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 163 

came of it. By 1 2. 30, the tavern was quiet as the grave. 

While the hop crop of the past year was not nearly so 
large as that of the preceding, possibly not more than 
a third as much, poor prices prevailed. In some lo- 
calities, the farmers said it hardly paid for harvesting. 
Perhaps the average for the counties mentioned at 
the introduction might have been from 2,500 to 3,000 
bales. The principal reason for the low prices ap- 
peared to be in the large crop of the '9S-'96 stock that 
brewers had on hand, together with the fact of a plen- 
tiful yield in Germany and England. In many towns, 
hops had been selling as low as six cents a pound. This 
rate scarce covered the expense of hauling the bales to 
market. It is safe to say that next year will find many 
a hop field turned into a corn, or rye patch. 

It is commonly supposed that hop culture mainly 
consists in setting out a few plants, and placing poles 
for the vines to creep on. The notion is wide of the 
truth. Farmers declare there is no crop that is grown 
calling for more hard labor. From the time the field 
is started, until it is ready to yield, the second year, 
there must be hoeing and digging, trimming and tend- 
ing. There is, too, a glorious uncertainty in the en- 
terprise. The crop may be about ready for the har- 
vest, and then a few days of rain will cause the ruina- 
tion of the entire field. Lice are a torment, and often 
do the vines have to be sprayed with all the care a hot- 
house keeper gives his rose bushes. 

When picking begins interest is aroused among the 
poor of evey cross-roads and small city near the hop 
country. Every member of such homes, from the pa- 
rents to the six-year-old, goes to the fields For the 
thrifty "the season" is the source of a pretty bounty. 
Many a family will make its winter's supply of wood, 



164 MR EAGLE'S USA. 

clothing and flour out of the hop revenue. But to do 
this means steady, patient work, and much economy. 
Time must not be frittered away in gabble and non- 
sense, for although farmers asserted they could not 
afford even the wages they were paying, those most 
pickers were making, were certainly meagre indeed. 
From the method used in harvesting, it can be readily 
seen where the attractive phase of the work looms up. 
Large crates are built; the dimensions being, say, 
four feet in length by twenty-six inches high, and 
twenty-six in width. The crate is divided into four 
equal compartments. H indies are fastened to the 
ends so that the apparatus can be readily moved about. 
A folding awning is arranged over the crate at a 
height of, perhaps, three feet. This is for the pro- 
tection of the pickers from the sun. ^ Four persons sit 
about each crate, and each picks into a separate com- 
partment. Among the young folks, you will always 
find a couple of girls on one side, and a brace of boys 
on the other. The old ladies divide off into congenial 
quartets, and neighborhood scandals receive a thorough 
attention. When a picker has filled a compartment, 
which holds ten bushels, he is entitled to thirty-five 
cents. The employer hands out a ticket. When the crop 
is all gathered, the cash is paid in according to the little 
white slips each worker presents. Now, to pick ten 
bushels of hops in a forenoon requires lively exercise 
of the fingers. Many a picker will accomplish no more 
than this in an entire day. The particularly rapid and 
attentive workers may succeed in gathering thirty-five 
bushels. However, the young people who are in the 
fields solely for sport, get a little pin money, and are 
well satisfied. The maids will have enough for new 
hats, and their gallants for cravats. 



MR. EAGLF'S TJ. S. A. 



165 



After the picking comes the drying and the pressing 
into bales. Every farm has its hop kiln in a building 
constructed especially for the purpose. The hops are 
spread upon a network of wire, and heat up to about 
180° F. turned on. While the hops are drying, the 
fumes of sulphur, or brimstone, are admitted to aid in 
"bleaching. It requires several days to properly "cure" 
the herbs. When the product is finished, it is put into 
the presser and, in the form of bales, is ready for the 
market. 

In some sections, the farmers have tried to meet the 
brewers' trust with one of their own, hoping thus to -ie- 
cure fair prices. The agricultural combination did ot 
amount to a great deal, for the buyers could easily 'ind 
so many who where compelled to sell for almost any 
price, that they were perfectly independent of the 
undertaking. As a rule the crop was disposed of to 
whatever agent happened along, for hops constitute a 
commodity that can not well be kept over from year 
to year, as the aroma becomes greatly detcri')rated. 



TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS. 



^ TTOW will we ever get through Schenectady?" 
I I Mother. was studying this problem for three 
or four days ])cfore we n-ached the place, and 
when, on the evening of September 17th, we drove for 
a mile, or so, along side of the tracks of the Delaware 
c*v: Hudson Canal R. R. , and stopped for the night at a 
little switch station about three miles south of Sche- 
nectady, 1 do not believe she slept very soundly. She 
had worked herself up to a pitch of extreme nervous- 
ness, for Schenectady is nothing if not a manufacturing 
town, and how she were to ride behind Kit among the 
locomotive and electrical works was, to her, a weighty 
question. It rained all the forenoon of the next day, 
and she did not fail to seize every minute of that time 
for worrying and inquiring "the best way to get 
through Schenectady. " The outcome of it was that 
she had such an overwhelming supply of information 
about "streets" and "railroads" and "crossings" 
that she was completely tangled, and couldn't repeat 
correctly one of the systems of directions, to save her, 
though she had a small memorandum book half filled 
with hurried notes and names of highways and byways. 
We set out about half past two in the afternoon, and 
kept driving along the tortuous roads, mother st-ewing 
and giving me " pointers,"' and I saymg, " Ves, yes, 
yes," until we got, finally, to the top of a long hill 



MR EAGLE'S U. S. A. 167 

where we could look right down into the city. "Well, 
here we are," I exclaimed. " Yes," said mother, "and 
now I suppose my torment begins." 

I got out to see what the prospect was, and left 
mother sitting there in the carriage, clutching the reins. 
She-had such an expression on her face that 1 couldn't 
help laughing, although I knew she didn't feel much 
like it. "Mother, you look as solemn as Joan of Arc 
going into battle," and I laughed again. " John, now 
don't you plague me. I've got enough to keep me 
busy as it is. " " You wait till Kit gets among the mills 
and she'll make you feel truly heroic," and with this 
comfort, I started off down the hill. It was even worse 
than I had supposed. On one side were mills, and an 
electric car-line ran down the hill most of the way. 
This was bugaboo number one, as Kit had not been 
broken to electrics ! (I do not know that it is very 
sensible to divulge the fact, but were trying to make 
this whole trip with a horse that had never been broken 
to them! When we reached Joliet, Illinois, during the 
first week of our journey, I wanted to spend the time 
there to thoroughly train Kit upon the subject, but 
mother was set in the opinion that it would do no good, 
for she said she would not ride in a street where the 
cars were running if she could possibly avoid it, and 
it would only be delaying our progress. So, all along, 
we kept twisting and turning in order to escape these 
monsters that I am sure mother was far more afraid of 
than the horse. But, do the best we could, Kit saw 
the cars many times at close range, for scores of 
the small cities and towns were filled with them, so that 
she got partially used to the peculiar whirr and burr.) 
As I went down the hill, however, I saw that to get w^///f ;- 
along, rather than Kit, the first thing to do was to fi"-ure 



l58 - MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

on dodging the electrics. Coming to the bottom, a 
sharp turn showed that the road went past a flouring 
mill and under a low bridge, over which were laid six 
tracks of the New York Central R. R. This bridge 
was at the southern edge of Schenectady, and at the 
entrance of the railway yards. I learned that about 
twenty freight trains passed oyer this bridge every hour, 
and that the electric cars went up the hill every twelve 
minutes. The situation, as a place into which to drive 
a country-bred horse, reared from a dam that had been 
of neighborhood note as a kicker, biter, and expert in 
several other entertaining respects, and was controlled 
by Your Uncle Consider simply b??cause kindness instead 
of the whip was employed, struck me as interesting. 

Climbing back up the hill I told mother she had bet- 
ter get out of the phaeton. She did so. I jumped in 
and waited for an electric to go down ahead of us. 
Mother wanted to know how things were, and I 
told her, in an off-hand way, "Oh, it's all right. 1 
can get through there well enough — " 'J'he car came 
along and I started before she could quiz me, for I knew 
that if she were aware of the real state of things she'd 
have a panic right there. I went sailing, and at the 
turn saw a freight slowly making for the bridge. I 
figured I had just time to scoot under before the train 
got to it. Kit wanted to prance, but I urged her ahead, 
and, as I was about to pass under, I saw a group of 
children emerge from the semi-darkness where they 
had been playing. " Out of that, or I'll go right over 
you !" and they skedaddled, while I slmt through in 
triumph about three hundred feet ahead of the big en- 
gine. I went, perhaps, a quarter of a mile and waited for 
mother to come up. It seemed an hour before she ar- 
rived, and then her face was as pale as a sheet. "Oh 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 169 

my!" she gasped, "what a place that was! I got 
to the turn of tlie hill just as that freight was go- 
ing over, and 1 expected to find things in a heap be- 
side the road. I haven't been so scared since I've 
been on this trip. I couldn't see anything of you after 
you- went around the curve-toward the bridge." 

"Well, mother, I must say it is the worst trap we have 
seen yet." That evening, at the hotel, I learned that 
several persons had been. killed at this bridge owing to 
their horses becoming frightened while trains were 
passing overhead. Many of them, too, had belonged 
to the class of men who say, " I always make my 
horse go just where I want him to." 

I remember an instance at Auburn, N. Y, An old 
farmer drove up with a fiery black colt hitched to a 
wagon load of butter, eggs and "garden truck." A 
steam roller was coming down the street, and every- 
body said, "Better look out for your horse, grandpa." 
But the old man thought he "could manage thet there 
critter, sir, 'thout hiding from any ingine thet wuz ever 
made!" There was a rearing, a sharp twist to the 
right, a snapping of a thill, then, lightning-like heels 
sent dash-board, spokes, slivers, golden butter, eggs 
and tomatoes in all directions. " Grandpa," with 
about a pound of butter reposing on his bosom, yolk 
running over his white beard and his coat, found him- 
self in a heap on the sidewalk, while a few bystanders 
stood by helpless from laughter. Grandpa scraped his 
eyes, spit out a mouthful of egg, and screeched : 
"Hey? Why don't you tarnal fools be tryin' to ketch 
the devilish beast, stid o' gawpin'!" 

Back at Oneida Castle, about twenty miles west of 
Utica, we found that for almost the entire distance 
between these two places, the West Shore R. R. winds 



170 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A 

as crookedly as the trail of a serpent across the wagon 
road. Some of the crossings are grade, some are 
overhead, and, in other places, the wagon-way is under 
the rail. There have been many fatalities along this 
course, and we are told that the railway people did this 
trick in the work of construction purposely, as the 
farmers in that section seemed to be opposed to grant- 
ing any favors of land concession to the new company. 
Hence, wherever the railroad builders could lay the 
track so it would make things lively for travelers along 
the highway, they did. The farmers were just as stub- 
born, and rather than bear the expense of creating a 
new and safe thoroughfare, they stick to the old one, 
and keep getting killed off. Yet, in the face of such 
contingencies, we used to meet people who would say 
to us, -'Why don't you travel at night? " apparently 
totally forgetful of the fact that the threshing engines 
were often run over the roads in the evening, the men 
being in a hurry to get the machines " set " at the next 
place to be ready for business early in the morning; 
and that we were strangers, kno.ving nothing of the 
country, nothing of the dozens of broken bridges 
and other frequent obstructions. Several times, we 
came near getting inextricably lost, and it was broad 
daylight, too. While going around Toledo and Cleve- 
land, we got into settlements of foreigners, and we 
travelled for miles when it seemed as if we could not 
nd a man who could direct us authoritfitively to any 
town ten miles away. We had, occasionally, to literally 
explore our course. Let anybody who thinks of taking 
a long drive even in the most thickly settled of regions, 
and who has the idea that each person he meets "can 
tell the way easy enough," disabuse himself of the error 
at once, or he will learn it to his sorrow later on. 



MR EAGLE'S U S. A. 



171 



We left, with Indiana, the region where they tell you, 
as in Illinois, " ten miles south, seven straight east and 
then, one mile south again," or the like, for on the 
prairies, the land being laid off in sections, the roads 
run true as a die, and directing a stranger is at once 
easy and definite. From that time onward, we kept 
meeting people who would go at it something like this: 

"Less see, — now — I aint been ter the County Seat 
for nigh two years. My boy's been, but then, he haint 
here. Well, — ye keep right on this road till ye git ter 
where theys three roads come tergether, an' ye take 
the anglin' road ter ther right, an' keep that till ye git 
ter Goose Neck Creek, an' then yer turn ter ther lef 
past an old mill. Co up ther hill, an' go 'bout four 
miles, till ye come to a cross road, 'n I doan know 's I 
kin rec'leck no furder. Ye'll hev ter inquire when ye 
git thar. " 

This lucid discourse always brought a "How's that?" 
from us, and then would follow a repetition, equally as 
valuable as the first attempt. Sometimes, in despera- 
tion, our acquaintance would pick up a stick and go to 
scratching away in the sand, trying to make a topo- 
graphical map. Often, he would make such devious in- 
terlineations, he would get himself twisted on his own 
plan. We would terminate the interview by thanking 
him and drive on, trusting to accidentally popping upon 
something of consequence from our next victim. It 
was after following an afternoon of this kind of expe- 
rience, that I used to find in the hotel some villager 
who would beam upon me in a fatherly manner, and 
ask me with the air of a Solon; 

" Why m the w'orld don't you travel at night? " 



WAS HIS DECISION JUST? 



WE stopped, one night, at the home of Al Fetts, 
in Saratoga county. We were struck with the 
prosperous appearance of the place. As far as 
one could see, there was every comfort necessary for 
the peace and enjoyment of a person of reasonable, 
rural tastes. Fetts was a handsome man of, I should 
say, about forty-five, and of unusual education for an 
agriculturist. He was of a sociable turn, and started 
into easy, graceful conversation even as he helped nie 
unharness the horse. I followed him about as he "did 
the chores," and by the time we walked in to supper 
we were on quite friendly terms. 

The family consisted of Fetts's mother, a gray-haired 
woman of eighty-four, the "hired man," and a Nor- 
wegian servant girl. I could not help wondering how 
it happened that Fetts, with his very evident personal 
attractions and substantial, not to say, rather luxurious 
surroundings, never married, I having already ascer- 
tained that he had at no time entered that state of hu- 
man affairs He seemed to be just the man many a 
woman in that section certainly might be willing to 
have for a husband, and she would be mistress of as 
delightful a country home as could be wished for. I 
made up my mind, if it was a possible thing in the 
short time I was to be with him, to get at Fetts's rea- 
son for remaining a bachelor. 



MR. KAGLE'S U. S. A. 



173 



Late in the evening, the servant busying herself in 
the pantry, the hired man ofi for a village dance, and 
the aged mother abed long ago, Fetts and I found our- 
selves snuggled down by the kitchen stove for a little 
chat and smoke. Mother had also retired, well aweary 
from the day's ride. As we concluded gossip about 
crops and politics, I endeavored, as adroitly as I could, 
to swing Fetts around to more sentimental topics. He 
sparred good naturedly at first, but finally related some 
interesting little experiences, while I responded with a 
few of my own. (Meagre and maudlin they were, too.) 
We gradually grew into a somewhat confidential atti- 
tude, and, before retiring, at a midnight hour, I believe 
that Al Fetts revealed to me his star chapter in affairs 
of the heart. 

I shall give it, as nearly as I am able, in his own 
words and way": 

"I was one of — let me get this pipe to going — the 
most bashful boys, I believe, that mortal ever saw. Up 
to the time I was nineteen, I had never been to a party; 
not because I had not been invited, but because I could 
not go into a room where there were girls. However, the 
evening of my nineteenth birthday marked my ' coming 
out.' Fred Jones, my chum, drove over about dark, 
and wanted me to go to a neighbor's with him. I got 
into the buggy and, in a short time, we reached the 
house. I thought something was wrong for I noticed 
that the rooms were all lighted up, but Jones was at 
the door and had knocked before I could take a second 
thought. The next minute, I was facing a crowd of 
girls. ' Good evening, Mr. Jones! ' and 'Oh Mr. Fetts! 
Is it you? Why, we're so glad you have come!' they 
were all exclaiming together In they dragged me. I 
got over by the stove and sat down to warm myself. 



174 



MR. RAGLE'S USA. 



The throng presently left for the parlor, after having 
declared they would be out after me soon. 

" ' Well, what shall I do? ' I said to myself in agony. 
' I never can go in there and face all that crew! ' I 
was in a most miserable fix. I didn't have long to cog- 
itate, however, for they kept their word and were out 
with, 'Oh Mr. Fetts! We're sure you must be warm 
enough now!' My face I well knew was crimson as a 
rooster's comb, and 1 could feel the perspiration start- 
ing, but I stammered out, 'Oh no, I am not. I am 
not warm yet.' Well, those girls just whopped in the 
wood and left me to my fate, saying they should not 
wait so long this time. The stove was getting up to a 
bright red and the drops were trickling off my fore- 
head. 

"Just then, I thought of a scheme. I hurried out 
on my tip-toes to the entry and sought my cap and 
coat, but I could not find them anywhere. I realized 
that that inhuman Jones had hidden them. I heard 
the army coming again, and skedaddled back to the 
stove. I had just got my feet on the fender when 
they were upon me. ' Well, we know you are warm 
now! 'and, giggling and laughing as if they could 
hardly contain themselves, the girls did not give me a 
chance to utter my former ridiculous wail. They 
caught hold of me, and were going to take me into the 
parlor whether or no. I saw something had to be done, 
and summoning what dignity I could command, I said, 
' I don't propose to be hauled in there like an ox to the 
slaughter. Now, if one of you young ladies will take 
my arm, I'll go along.' 'Why certainly, Mr. Fetts! ' 
said Augusta Furman, suiting action to word, and slip- 
ping her arm through mine. The others fell back, and 
in we went. I got along first rate. I was introduced 



MR KAGI.E'S U S A. 



175 



and my timidity gradually wore off. I came away 
having had a most delightful evening. 

"It was not long until I thought it very agreeable 
to go calling, as well as the rest of the fellows, on a 
young lady, of a Sunday evening. The one 1 went 
to see was Augusta Furman. I had had a sort of 
friendly feeling for her because of her kindly act on 
the occasion of the party. It was enhanced by my 
visits at her home. She was about twenty-four and 
handsome — absolutely the handsomest girl I have ever 
seen. She had been graduated at a seminary, and had 
visited a great deal in the large cities. She was cele- 
brated as a flirt, though, and had a long and variega- 
ted list of rejected suitors. 

" I had been visiting Augusta about two years, when 
one day I was over in Mechanicsville. As I was driv- 
ing by, George Beelman called out from his office door 
and asked me to come in. Beelman was a bright law- 
yer and prominent in that county, but he had been 
discarded by Miss Furman just the same. With few 
preliminaries, he proceeded to talk about that lady. He 
was so civil in the way he approached the subject that 
I was not in the least offended. He warned me above 
everything to 'look out for her.' He declared she 
would so manage a man that she would make him love 
her, and that her principal aim in life was to control 
men. He referred to the others, among them poor 
Will Way, but declared that for himself, he meant to 
live on and come up in his profession. At the end of 
an hour's most earnest conversation, his last word to 
me was, ' Look out Al ! Look out ! ' 

"I was disposed to think, as I rode home, that so 
far as I was concerned, there was little need for Beel- 
man's cautions. I immensely enjoyed Augusta's soci- 



1^6 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

ety, for she was so exceedingly entertaining, such a 
bright conversationaHst, that time seemed to just fly 
when I was with her. 'But how,' I reasoned, 'can 
that woman think me worth exercising any of her arts 
upon, me, a common farmer, when she has so many 
smart professional and business men from the different 
towns among her acquaintaces? ' Then, as I studied 
the situation, 1 began to recall certain little sayings 
and acts that, to say the least, were peculiar. I reached 
the conclusion it might be wise, after all, to not wholly 
disregard Beelman's advice. 

"Well, — to keep my story in limit, — the time did 
come when, surely enough, I was forced to the con- 
clusion that Augusta Furman was planning to manoever 
me just as she had the others. Then I stopped going 
to see her. 

"Later I met her several times, at the post 
office, at church, and on the street. She seemed ex- 
tremely desirous of knowing why I had ceased calling 
upon her, and would insist that I come to her house 
and tell her what the trouble was. 1 would excuse 
myself as best I could, but one day she saw me and 
urged so strongly that I could not avoid bringing mat- 
ters to a decision. I looked her directly in the eye 
and said, 'Augusta, do you mean to say you really want 
me to tell you?' She met my gaze equally as firmly. 
' Yes, I do, and you must. I shall not be content un- 
til you do.' 'Augusta,' I replied, ' it will be a painful 
affair for both of us.' 

" I had my story carefully thought out. For this 
reason, when I entered her home that Sundayevening, 
I was cool and composed. 

"We sat down on the lounge and I began, 'Augusta, 
you have insisted that I let you know why I stopped 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



177 



coming here. I have only concluded to tell you under 
the belief that what 1 am going to say may be the best 
for you ; that possibly it may be my duty to say it.' 
She looked around at me with surprise in her eyes, and 
seemed to be wondering what in the world I was get- 
ting at. 

"'Augusta, you showed me, an awkward, country 
youth, a kindness at that party which appealed to me 
strongly. Then, when I came to your home, you made 
the evenings delightful. It was a feast to me. You 
were handsome. You were polished. You had seen 
something of the great, gay, fashionable life outside 
this narrow, obscure, rural neighborhood. 1 was 
brought in touch with an experience far different from 
any I had ever before known. I liked to come here as 
a matter of enjoyment. It was the most complete 
pleasure to me to hear your entertaining talk. The 
wonderful daintiness of the room was a charm, the 
artistic arrangement of the flowers, the pictures upon 
the walls, your playing so skilfully on the piano. All 
those things conspired to make my evenings here en- 
trancing. I was young and unsophisticated. You had 
many bright, educated men here who were constantly 
attending you. The situation tended to greatly delay 
my becoming aware of your exercising any of your arts 
upon me. I — ' 

"'Why, what do you mean!' exclaimed Augusta, 
while her eyes fairly blazed. ' How dare you talk like 
that? You are insulting! ' 

"'Now Augusta, it's no use,' I said calmly. 'I 
OQme here to say my say, and 1 shall do so ' 

" 'As I became better and better acquainted with 
you,' I went on, 'I did have perception enough to realize 
that you did and said things that were a little sur- 



178 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

prising. As time went along, those happenings grew 
more pronounced. You would use certain long and 
technical expressions, the meaning of which I did not 
get because the words were such as I had never heard. 
I followed the practice, after I had lift your house, of 
putting those sentences down in a note book, and, in 
my room, I would look them up in the dictionary. I 
found, in each case, that the utterances pointed more 
or less plainly toward an interesting subject — love. I 
steadily observed that ihey were being used more fre- 
quently by you, as well as that several other arts were 
more regularly employed, suggesting your especial in- 
terest in me. ' 

" ' Al Fetts, you shall not accuse me of such things! 
I'll not stand it! I'll have you put out of the house!' 

" She well knew to what I referred. Again I assured 
her it were folly to get angry, calmed her down, and 
started ahead by hauling out my trusty memorandum. 
Turning to a certain page, I asked, 'Augusta, did you 
not, on such and such an evening, make this assertion?' 
And I read it off. 

" Her cheeks flushed, and her head lowered. She 
refused to answer. 

" ' Did you not say it? ' I urged. 

" I — I do not remember,' she answered. 

" Do you dare deny uttering it? ' 

"There was no reply. I worked carefully through 
the entire list of selections. Then putting the book 
back in my pocket, I said: 

" ' Augusta, think of Will Way. ^Vhat was he when 
he began to call on you? One of the finest young men 
in the township. Good looking, intelligent, of excel- 
lent family and habits, he was a glorious specimen of 
manhood. No youth had better prospects. People 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



179 



expected great things of Will. What did he become after 
you rejected him? What is he now? A drunken, hope- 
less sot reeling toward his grave. Is it nothing to you 
that his mother says you led him on just to destroy 
him? Is it nothing to you that folks, as they see Will's 
bleared eyes and his shaking shoulders, whisper sadly 
with one another and mention your name? ' 

" I must say there was a pretty solemn look came 
over Augusta's face and, finally, I fancied there was 
something like a mist in her eye. 

"'Was there,' I resumed, 'ever a more promising 
minister placed over this church than Henry ^Villiams? 
He became infatuated with you. You rejected him. 
Do you ever think of the saddened face that man wore 
when he left this town to become a wandering evan- 
gelist? Do you pretend to claim you were wholly free 
from connection with his leaving? 

" 'And George Wray, too. He loved you, and you 
well know it. You carefully and patiently drew him 
out, but to hand down the same verdict the others re- 
ceived. His bones lie out in one of those Arizona 
canyons where the Apaches shot him.' 

" The bravado, the temper, and the hauteur had 
slowly vanished. Augusta was crying. I was not sure, 
however, that her mood was sincere. I went on and 
mentioned some others who had suffered by their ex- 
perience with her. Presently, I said: 

"'Augusta, to my mind, the woman who, through 
her natural beauty and her skill in such matters, delib- 
erately wins the love of an h(jnest man for the sole 
purpose of enjoying the gratification of refusing his 
proposal of marriage, does as cruel a thing as woman 
is capable of.' 

" ' Oh Al, don't say that!' Augusta exclaimed, as 



l8o MR EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

she looked up with the tears streamin,^ down her face. 
' Don't say that. I never thought of it that way. Oh, 
if somebody had only said this to me before, when it 
was not too late ! ' 

" 'As truly as there is such a thing as retributive jus- 
tice,' I continued, 'just so certain is it that you will 
pay for what you have done. You will live to see the 
day that you will suffer for these things. Augusta, 
there was a time when I believed you perfection, but 
that day has passed. It passed when I began to know 
your true charater. After tonight, I shall never set 
foot in this house.' 

"She looked at me with a startled expression in her 
eyes, and, seizing my hand, begged me over and over 
not to say that I meant that, pleaded and pleaded for 
me to tell her I had the feelings of old toward her, but 
I assured her that it was impossible 1 tried to go, 
but she clung to me, hysterically imploring that I re- 
tract what I had said and declare I still loved her. 

"I, at last, got to my feet, and moved toward the 
door. That act seemed to set Augusta in a frenzy. 
She sprang toward me and throwing her arms about 
my neck, said over and over, 'Al, I love you! I love 
you! Don't go, Al ! For God's sake, don't go! ' 

"I took hold of her wrists firmly but gently, and, 
looking down into her face, asked, 'Augusta, is that 
the first time you have said that? ' 

" 'As Heaven is my witness it is !,' 

" ' Have you not said it by acts, if not in words? ' 

" Her head hung. 'N-no, I am not sure I can say 
no to that.' 

"Well, — it was two o'clock before I left her, and 
when I did, she was so limp that I had to carry her 
over to the lounge and lay her upon it. 



MR. EAGLES U. S. A. jgi 



* * 

" Six months later, I was working in northwestern 
Iowa, as a life insurance agent. I was there about two 
years when I was called home b)^ the illness of my 
father. One of the first things I heard was that, some 
four fnonths since, Augusta Furman had been married 
to a stylish young man, supposed to be a New York 
physician. They had gone up to Saratoga Springs to 
spend the honeymoon. The first week of their stay, 
the husband had been arrested. He proved to be a 
noted horse thief, and was now in Auburn prison. 

" My father shortly getting better, I went back to 
Iowa. Four years later, he died, and I returned again 
to take care of mother and the farm. That Fall, I was 
down at the County Fair, one afternoon, with my 
brother-in-law, and going through the Horticultural 
building, when I heard some one in the crowd call, 'Al ! 
Al! ' I turned, but could see no one wanting me, and 
started on, thinking it was some other 'Al ' that was 
meant. Then, I heard it again, 'Al! Al ! Al Fetts?' 
Once more, I faced about, and looked searchingly. 
Away back in the throng, I saw a woman heavily veiled 
waving a glove. As I retraced my steps, she came 
toward me, and said, 'Al, how do you do?' 'Pretty 
well,' I answered, 'but you have the advantage of me. 
I don't recollect ever having met you before.' She 
came nearer and raised her veil, saying, 'Al, don't you 
remember Augusta? ' 

" I involuntarily stepped back a little and exclaimed, 
'My God! Is this Augusta Furman?' She nodded 
her head, while tears came to her eyes. I never saw 
such a change in a human being. The splendid red 
cheeks were pale and sunken, the beautiful blue eyes 
dulled, the luscious lips thin and colorless. 



l82 MR EAGLE'S U S. A. 

"As I glanced at her shabby black dress, I took both 
her hands in mine, and looking- into her face, asked, 
" 'Well, Augusta, how has it been with you? ' 
" Her voice was scarcely audible as she faltered, 
"'Oh Al, you told me too trnllifnllyl' 
" From that day to this, I liave never seen nor heard 
oi lier. " 



A' 



OLD TAVERNS AND MODERN 
DRUNKENNESS. 



FTER we got into Western New York, and from 
there onward, we began to strike the old tavern, 
the decaying, tattered remnant of other days. 
From Albany to Buffalo, along the Albany and Gen- 
essee pikes, were the great avenues through which 
poured the armies of emigrants that, between 1820 and 
1840, were plodding, by means of ox and mule teams, 
out to the prairies of Indiana and Illinois. All along 
this stretch of 230 miles there were public houses situ- 
ated at intervals of from five to six miles. Great, 
roomy structures, most of them, in which from one to 
two hundred people would be lodged every ni^ht. 
These highways were busy scenes then. All freight 
carriage was done by means of the great " Conestoga 
wagons, and the only way to transport cattle was to 
drive them over the dusty roads. At night, the large 
yards near the tavern would be filled with a bleating, 
bawling assortment of creatures tired by the travel 
and excited by the new surroundings. The door-yard 
and perhaps each side of the door-way, for rods, would 
be thronged with freight wagons, loaded with barrels 
of flour, boxes, and farming tools, or there would be 
long, canvas covered carts, almost the only earthly 
possessions of those who were going out to settle the 
virgin West. The women and children were stowed 
away up stairs, and below until nine o'clock, for 



i84 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



lights went out early in those days, there was noisy 
confusion. The big, ruddy boniface would be behind 
the bar, dealing out straight and good whiskey to the 
adventurous fellows about him. I say "straight and 
ai)t)d whiskey," and it was. None of your "kill at 
forty rods," but the "pure quill." That was what these 
landlords sold in those days, and if anybody got too 
much of it, they simply threw him down and sat upon 
his neck, that he might come to a realizing sense of 
his responsibilities as a citi^cen. Those were glorious 
times. "Why," said an old fellow to me, "I used to 
take in $140 a day over this bar." The laying of the 
New York Central railroad took off passenger, and a 
great deal of freight traflic, but still travel over the 
pike was of fair proportion, as the railroad did not 
carry cattle, and, for some years, considerable freight- 
ing was done. In the '40's the railway, which b;.cl 
agreed that if the State Assembly would permit it to 
carry cattle, passengers in turn sliould be transported 
at the rate of two cents a mile, got the privilege. 
That was the death blow to the old tavern How 
changed the scenes in this region today! Near West 
Junius, in Seneca county, stands a two-story building, 
with double veranda supported by stately white col- 
umns, once the finest hotel in that section. For years 
it has remained unoccupied except by the troop of bats 
and owls that fly in and out of the broken windows, 
and the loosened clapboards Hap dismally on a windy 
day as a reminder of adversity. This was the Henry 
VanDemark tavern, built in 1828, and it made a fortune 
for the owners. Even now, if the old structure were 
repaired, and in a summer resort, it might be made 
a very respectable boarding-house. At Mycene, 
a little southwest of Canastota, is the Mabee House, 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. igj 

built by one 'Lish Mabee, in 1799. At Clifton Park 
village, in Saratoga County, is a tavern that has been 
used as a public house for over one hundred and fifty 
years. These were but types of dozens that we saw. 
As we came to a great, gray building, one noon, we 
stopped, and mother, to better study the affair, got 
down from the carriage. We had no thought of any- 
body being there, but suddenly a white head was 
thrust out of a window, and a venerable dame asked, 
" Do you want anything? " This opened the way for 
a few minutes' conversation, in which we learned that 
she had been living there for several years, in a couple 
of rooms on the first floor, undisturbed by the ghostly 
and cobwebby apartments about her. Husband dead, 
children scattered to the four winds, this eighty-year- 
old being was eking out a forsaken living by making 
rugs. "Don't you want to buy one?" she implored. 

Sometimes we would come to a neat, nicely kept 
moderri farm-house, and off to one side would be an 
old, ramshackle af^ir used as a granary, or chicken 
house. This was the old "tavern," and where the 
occupant of the new house made his money. A few of 
these structures that played so important a part in the 
enterprise of fifty years ago are still used as hotels, 
but the way they are managed is a spectacle for the 
gods. 

I have seen Poles intoxicated at a Chicago picnic, 
and Italian miners on a rampage at Central Illinois 
coal mines, but for deadened, habitual besotted drink- 
ers I never saw any to surpass those in the 
little towns along through New York State. It was 
not an occasional experience of seeing a few bibulous 
fellows engage in a neighborly row on the street and 
officers presently taking the whole party to the lock- 



l86 MR. EAGLE'S U. S.- A 

up. No, we came into town after town where we 
would drive up to the tavern and wait vainly for some 
one to come out, and, at last, we would have to go in 
and hunt up the keeper in much the same pains-taking 
way that the earnest parent has to when he wants John 
Henry to turn the grindstone. VVhen we found the 
chief, he was often so stupefied with the persistent tak- 
ing of " Here's to ye ! " that he did not know if he 
were on the earth or off. And the prices I I remem- 
ber one of the first landlords we struck, after getting 
into the State. "What are your rates?" I asked. 
"Two dollars a day!" 1 just looked at him; I could 
not say a word. I glanced at the dirty, dingy walls, 
and thought of the day, last year, which I spent at a 
eighty-thousand-dollar hotel in Sioux City, away out 
in the northwestern corner of Iowa. I thought of the 
course-dinner and the troops of colored waiters, and 
that for that day's board I was asked two dollars. I 
thought of Sheldon, Iowa, a town of not over two 
thousand inhabitants, yet possessing a twenty-thousand- 
dollar hotel, at a two dollar rate. "Friend," I said 
when I got my tongue, "are you sure you haven't the 
price too low?" "Well," he answered, somewhat 
shamefacedly, "I tell ye, we git so few travelers we 
have to ask more." "So it's 'catch 'em and skin 'em,' " 
I concluded. (I am free to say that I often did go to bed 
in a room so musty that I wondered if mother and I 
were not the only guests who had been in the house 
since the war.) 

We found, as we went along, that it was quite the 
thing, in many of the towns or hamlets, for women to 
patronize the drinking rooms, as well as the men. In 
Leroy, a town large and thrifty, in one of the principal 
hotels, I saw girls who could not have been more than 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 187 

fourteen or sixteen, being conducted into the place and 
up to the parlor. Their escorts would then hurry to 
the bar and bring in the beer. I think about ten or 
twelve girls were ushered into that room, at various 
times, during the evening. Yet, I suppose that if a 
tout had ct)me to Leroy and set up a dance house, 
he'd have been arrested before he had been running 
two days, and there would have been tongue-wagging 
among the gossips for six months. 

In Batavia, Genessee county, we walked the streets 
for three-quarters of an hour, trying to find a restaur- 
ant, hotel, or lunch-room without a bar attachment, 
and at last had to give it up, as we found that what a 
man had said at the start was the fact: "There wan't 
no place but what they sold drinks." Stopping in 
front of a saloon, we went up stairs where we were 
told the dining room was. Before mother could get 
into the "parlor" to wait for the preparation of our 
meals, the barkeeper had to come up and eject a lout 
who had been there since morning sleeping off a drunk 
The institution resembled in most respects, so far as 
I could see, one of the "transient" establishments 
of the large cities. 

A little jerkwater railroad runs from Clinton up to 
Rome, and while we were at Clinton I had occasion to 
proceed to Rome over this magnificent line. As I 
entered the coach I heard such a commotion as would 
have rivalled the celebration of a foot-ball match. The 
train was packed with a gang of hop-pickers, some 
three hundred of them, men, women and children. 
Thty had just been paid off, and had come up from 
points ten to twenty miles below Clinton, bound to 
Rome and Utica for a good time. Nearly all the men 
were drunk, drunk as they could be and manage to 



l88 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

keep their feet, in fact, many had already passed that 
stage, and, jammed down between car seats, were do- 
ing no harm. Pandemonium reigned. Leering lub- 
bers reeled and jostled and shouted at the top of their 
voices all the vile words they could think of. Mere 
boys tumbled along the aisle. Some of the females 
were crying and tugging at the coats of husbands or 
brothers, begging them to be quiet. Nasty talk was 
their reward. Scattered through the different coaches 
were a number of refined, handsome young ladies, who 
had got aboard at various stations, not knowing they 
were on the "hop train" until it was too late. Their 
confusion was painful in the extreme. I saw one of 
those hulking brutes lean over and attempt to kiss a 
pretty girl in a gray suit. She screamed and slapped 
his face. These men, most of them, had been at work 
from one to three weeks at a sort of labor which, 
according to the rate of pay, and the manner in which 
they had probably worked, had brought them between 
eight to ten dollars! It was safe to say that not a 
man had more than twelve dollars in his pocket, and 
the majority no more than six, yet here they were, 
tanked like a winning prize fighter within three hours 
after getting their money. The scene, aside from its 
disgusting features, was pathetic, for nearly all these 
people showed plainly by face and clothes that they 
belonged to the class that would be in desperately 
hard lines ere the winter was out, even if they were 
to save every penny they could earn. 

At a hotel in Valley Falls, just after we had crossed 
the Hudson, the man who stabled our horse was so 
drunk that he had great difficulty in getting out of the 
barn. As I saw him, lantern in hand, coming along 
behind the string of horses, wobbling and staggering 



^^ 


#>lk 


MB/ ^ . /^-^ ^IP 


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9lkl'^^^^^ 




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11 IK RUG MARI'.R. 



MR EAGLE'S U, S. A. 189 

in his effort to get ahead, I expected every instant to 
see a hoof get loose, and man, lantern and pipe go 
through the side of the barn 

And so it was, to an extent I have not space to de- 
lineate. A shiftless, thriftless landlord, with a crew 
of dazed, dumb soaks about him,. and himself unfit to 
do a thing other than hand out cheap liquor. 

Women's Christian Unioners! do not tear around so 
about reforming the alkali plains of Oklahoma or South- 
western New Mexico. Get right out into the small 
towns and hamlets of the highly civilized Empire State. 
There's work enough for you all right there. 



A CHANGE OF BASE. 

BUT when you go from Hoosac to North Adams 
most of the way, eighteen miles, you'll be 
driving so close to the Fitchburg that you can 
lay your whip on the rails! " Depend upon it, this an- 
nouncement was received with interest. We got it of 
a postman we met as we were driving out of Hoosick 
Falls, on our way to North Hoosick, simply Hoosick, 
as many call it. Our route since we crossed the Hud- 
son, at Mechanicsville, had been along the roughest 
and most dangerous roads we had yet seen. They 
wound around among the railroads so that the only way 
to make the crossings safely was for me to go ahead as 
a sort of scout. I began to think I was elected to 
walk the rest of the trip. We stopped over night at 
Hoosick, and in the morning mother took a train and 
went down to North Adams, Mass., to get the mail 
which we had ordered forwarded there, but, perhaps, 
niainlv to see what the outlook was for going into the 
Hub by way of the Berkshires. WMien she got back, 
about eleven o'clock, her tale was of woe "Why, 
the road is much worse even than the folks have told 
us!" she exclaimed, "Over long distances it runs right 
in between the two tracks; part of the way, I'd look 
out, and at first couldn't see the wagon road, — then 
I'd find it was within a yard of the train And Hoosac 
Mountain! It looks as if the road over it was going 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



191 



right up into the air!" "Well," I mused, "I certainly 
don't propose to straddle the Fitchburg, nor any other 
railroad, into Boston I'll drive by way of Canada 
first." 

Therefore, on the afternoon of September 22, we 
found ourselves plodding northward to Bennington. 
On our right, lay Pownal mountain, cold, cloud-covered 
and forbidding, as, indeed, seemed all the scenery. For 
mountain rapture, one does not want to be too close. 
It is distance that creates the " alluring " business. 

We soon saw the tall pile of granite known as the 
Bennington Battle Monument. It was a great day for 
Bennington when this monument was -dedicated in 
August, 1891. President Harrison, Edward J. Phelps, 
Wheelock Veazey, W. E. Russell, General O. O. How- 
ard, R. A. Alger, Redfield Proctor, a horde of military 
and civic notables, together with 40,000 ordinary mor- 
tals were present. The quiet townsfolk are yet talk- 
ing of that event. Ever since John Stark met the 
British, Bennington has regularly celebrated the occur- 
rence. As early as 1877, the project of building the 
monument was hinted. By 1887, a committee was at 
work, yet it had hardly set about its labors ere the ar- 
gument over the proper site began. Scribblers of all 
degrees of ignorance and culture saw their opportunity, 
and the columns of the Troy limes and Bennington 
Banner were filled with tremendous rigmaroles, for 
when you get east of the Alleghenies, a proposition to 
build a town hall has to first go through the fire of ex- 
tended literary criticism. It was contended that the 
" battle of Bennington " should be called the "battle 
of Waloomsac" by rights, as the contest was not fought 
in Vermont at all, but across the line, in New York, 
and near the town of Waloomsac. The struggle was 



192 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



now contested again throughout and with a great deal 
more science than brave Stark displayed, for these 
writer chaps worked with pencils and could set the 
British down an}' place, and mow oft" the redcoats by 
lines, or brigades, just as would sound best. The 
monument was finally built in Waloomsac, on the hill 
overlooking the town of Bennington, and still the shaft 
is not located where the battle was fought^ as the actual 
struggle took place seven miles away, in the valley, 
the stores which the Hessians desired to capture being 
on this hill. The affair cost $80,000, of which amount 
Congress contributed half, the rest being made up by 
Vermont, New Hampshire and Massachusetts. The 
shaft is above the height of Bunker Hill.'s, and the po- 
sition is a superb one in a scenic respect, the 
spectator being able to sweep the valley for miles, 
while the mountains across seem an impassable barrier 
against the outside world. 

During our evening at the village of Bennington I 
had occasion to go to the home of a machinist. The 
man was not in when I arrived, and while 1 was wait- 
ing for him his wife, an intelligent looking woman, but 
gifted with the genuine Yankee curiosity, asked me 
where I was from. I told her, " Illinois." Then she 
was full of questions. 

"I suppose it's a rich country out there," she said. 
I told her about the place in Dakota where it is claimed 
" if you planted pumpkin seeds the vines would grow so 
fast you couldn't catch the pumpkins. "The poor wo- 
man had so expected she was going to hear something 
"big" that I think it must have been three minutes 
before she so much as smiled. "But when you get 
out of Chicago, it's mostly little bits of towns, isn't 
it?" she went on. "Just a few houses or hamlets?" 
When I declared that there were many towns of 




BENNINGTON BATTLE MONUMENT. 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



193 



twelve to twenty thousand, and that they had their 
electric light plants, street railways, high schools and 
libraries, I know by the look she gave me that she felt 
I was the most habitual liar she had seen for years. 
She maintained a furious question bombardment, and, 
finally,' I thought I'd put her some. "What would you 
think," I asked, "if you should see a lot of cribs built 
in the form of a square with one side of the square 
open, and when it was desired to feed the cattle a farm 
hand simply lifted up the lower boards along the cribs, 
and the cattle rushed up and ate what they wanted, 
while they trampled more in the mud? Or what would 
you think if you saw a couple of boys, at ' corn shucking ' 
time, jump on the wagons and race across an eighty- 
acre field while ten or twelve bushels of corn were 
jostled out into the mud?" "I should think it crimi- 
nal wastefulness," she said with decision. "What 
would you do if you were driving along, and you sud- 
denly saw that the road was black with hogs, two or 
three hundred of them?" "Well, I should get out 
and climb the fence!" "But suppose the fence was 
barbed wire?" "Well, I should be getting some- 
where." "Or, if you should see a man plowing with a 
steam engine?" "A steam engine?" she exclaimed. 
"Yes, a steam engine, and drawing twelve or si.xteen 
plows, these being all fastened to an iron beam so that 
every time they crossed the field twelve to sixteen fur- 
rows were turned?" "Oh Lord!" she said. 

The next morning we set out to make our way across 
Southern Vermont, heading for Wilmington, twenty- 
two miles distant. We spent the forenoon climbing a 
spur of the Hoosac range, ascending gradually until at 
noon we were in the Woodstock House, 3,000 feet 
above sea level. All one could see were woods, -woods, 



194 MR. EAGLE'S lA S. A. 

woods, and distant, sloping, awful ranges of woods. 
Things iiad a horribly threatening aspect to me. It 
seemed as if we had got thousands of miles above the 
earth, of real, every-day life. Mountains lay to the 
right of us; to the left; beneath; no matter which 
way we looked. Not a sound was to be heard. The 
lonesomeness of existence upon a sheep ranch upon the 
far western plains is appalling, but it struck me that 
life among these mountains would not afford much 
better choice. And the people who live here! You 
know, in those stories by New England novelists the 
dwellers in the Vermont and New Hampshire hills are 
always dear, sweet-faced old ladies, who sit in their 
morning-glory covered porches while troops of dainty, 
city children come to prattle about, and eat ginger- 
bread as the saintly grandmas tell of the beautiful days 
of the past. What /saw were a lot of poverty-stricken, 
faded, angular beings who seemed as benighted to the 
general world as if they had been born and kept in 
dungeons. And they had — the dungj'ons of fighting 
for bread on these God-forsaken rocks, and of shiver- 
ing out the winter in mountain cabins. 

We passed a weather-beaten house. VVindow panes 
broken and the openings filled with rags and shingles, 
barn tumbling to pieces, and, in the pasture, stood 
the lord of this domain surveying a couple of aged cows 
whose ribs showed through their brindled sides. He^ 
wore a pair of threadbare, blue overalls and an old 
straw hat. There he stood vacantly chewing a spear 
of Timothy (a rare article he'd somewhere discovered) 
and looking as disconsolate a creature as ever I saw. 
In front of another cabin, a woman of, I should think, 
thirty-five, her frowsy, yellow hair flying in the breeze 
and wearing an old "Jersey," was bending over a 



MR. EAGLE'S U, S. A. 195 

wheelbarrow assorting some apples, while she sucked 
contentedly away at her clay pipe. Mother relished 
the spectacle and exclaimed, enthusiastically, "There's 
your chance, John! There's just the woman you 
ought to have, for there'd be no quarreling. You 
could both sit down behind the stove and smoke 
together!" Yes, stacks of books dilating on the peace- 
ful sublimity of life in the New England backwoods 
have, for years, dropped from the presses, and the 
dropping ceaseth not. But the cold truth of the 
dreadful, puritanical, superstitious existence remains a 
fresh area for some Dickens. The life that Lizzie 
Borden led, despite the wealth of her parents, as ex- 
l)Osed at the Fall River trial, was almost as great a 
revelation to the city people of New England as it was 
to the rest of the country. The pmched, pale faces of 
the school teachers in these mountain towns tell truer 
than could words, the starvation and privation of soul 
that they patiently endure until they go to the side- 
hill graveyard among the blackberry bushes. 

We spent the afternoon plodding up and down along 
this mountain ridge for seven miles, having a most 
perplexing time in keeping the road. The highway 
was no different in appearance from those leading to 
saw-mills and timber lots. We asked a man we met 
coming up, the \\ ay down (we were at the fork of two 
roads) '• I51essed 'f I can tell you," he said, "I'm a 
stranger, too. When I left Wilmington I asked a fel- 
h'W about the road, and he said 'I'd find it a little rol- 
lin' and I should think, by jingoes, it was!" After a 
while, however, we found ourselves going d-nvn, and 
we kept at it, until, toward night, we were at Wil- 
mington, ready for the morrow's climb over the Hog- 
back mountain to Brattleboro. 



FARMING: EAST AND WEST. 



ATAHAT we become used to our surroundings, 
I is a merciful law of nature. Whatever they may 
be, we learn to like them, and to feel such a sense 
of content that we are loath to break away from them, 
even though our judgment is convinced that we could 
greatly improve our condition by so doing. This has 
been demonstrated so often in everyday life that it has 
come to be an accepted fact by the most ignorant 
We pity the poor always, but we regard with special 
sympathy the persons who have been suddenly hurled 
from affluence to a state of indigence. "Poor souls!" 
we, who are used to poverty, say, "they don't know 
how to battle with want. They don't know how to 
make, and mend, and turn the many-pieced garment 
of Poverty. They do not know how to extract the 
life-supporting juices of the beef bone, or to handle 
to best account the bit of vegetable or penny's worth 
of stale bread," and we sum up the situation with, " It 
won't be so bad when they get used to it." 

The convict becomes so used to his cell and prison 
life that, after confinement for several years, he seldom 
accepts pardon with a feeling of gladness. It is the 
existence of this same natural law, in the main, that 
causes people to continue to huddle together in wretch- 
edness in cities, where they have to dig and scratch to 
keep body and soul together, instead of getting out 



MR EAGLE'S O. S. A. 



197 



into the pure air of the open country, and cultivating 
the rich acres that invite labor with all the seductive- 
ness that sunshine, health and plenty can offer. 

Why not go where, with the finest climate, the most 
productive soil on the face of the globe can be pur- 
chased for from $18 to $20 per acre, or rented for $2 
an acre per year? 

This you will find in the State of Iowa. 

(I propose to set forth my own personal experience 
and go only into such details as I know to be actual 
facts, from such experience, aa I well realize that gen- 
eralities too often have little weight with the very 
classes it is desired to reach. A statement of this 
nature is much like that required in a law case. It is 
not what one thinks, or guesses, but what he knows, 
and what references he can advance, that gives his evi- 
dence weight before the jury. Herein, I know that I 
am assuming to talk before the jury — the jury of poor, 
discouraged tillers of the soil, who would try to better 
their condition if they could once be assured of there 
being an actual opportunity so to do. For this reason 
and as an earnest of good faith, I have not hesitated 
to use specific names and dates, and the doubter can 
readily satisfy himself if I state the reality by the sim- 
ple employment of pen and paper. 

I represent no corporation. I would just as soon 
say, •' Move to the Dry Tortugas," were I to have had 
the experience of as satisfactory conditions as I know 
the State of Iowa to possess. What I delineate here 
is that which has been indelibly graven upon my mind 
after practical, protracted study of the agricultural 
status of the Dakotas, Iowa, Minnesota, Illinois, and 
that of every State from Ohio eastward). 

How often, as we heard your complaints, you of the 



igg MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

worn-out farms of Ohio, New York, Vermont and New 
Hampshire, you who are struggHng along in the effort 
to pick a mere pittance off the rocks and the worth- 
less sand-soil, you whose twisting and turning to make 
every cent count was so pitifully evident, did we think 
of those Iowa leagues that have slejH for ages awaiting 
but the dropping of the seed to belch forth corn and 
oats and prosperity! 

Iowa has as dry, healthful,- invigorating a climate 
as Vermont and New Hampshire It is no colder, and 
I do not think as cold in winter. Iowa has never had 
the malarious climate of Illinois which the early set- 
tlers in that State had to battle against, but which cul- 
tivation of the soil has now almost wholly banished. 
I do not know how to say enough in praise of the clear, 
crisp, bracing atmosphere of Iowa, I have left my 
home in Ottawa, LaSalle county, Illinois, at six o'clock 
p. m., tired, worried, worn with previous days of 
hard work and anxiety, and, after a night on the train, 
arrived at Livermore, Kossuth county, Iowa, at five 
o'clock a. m., actually experiencing a briskness and 
freshness such as I had never known in days of 
health and restfulness in Illinois. The first time I 

took this trip I thought such a sense of exhilaration 
must be imagination, but, after repeating the trip a 
dozen times or more, I could not doubt it was due to 
the bracing qualities of the climate. 1 could accom- 
plish more mental labor during my stay ther^-, which 
was usually from two to three weeks, than at any other 
period of my life, and the strain of business effort and 
anxiety was never followed by unpleas mt reaction. I 
would return to Illinois improved in condition in every 
way. I have been there at all seasons, and have no 
exceptions to make to any portion of the year. I have 



MR. KAGLE'S U S. A. 199 

ridden over the country with pony team as far as sixty 
miles a day, many miles of that being over unbroken 
prairie sod. 

The black loam of Iowa is like that of the corn belt 
of Illinois, about two-and-a-half or two feet deep, and 
over-lies a yellowish clay. I cannot say that it never 
wears out, or diminishes in fertility, but the likeHhood 
of it so doing may be well paralleled by the story of 
the man who lived in a house having a stone wall and a 
stone roof, but who had the entire structure covered 
with Ixjards in order that the rock might not be affect- 
ed by action of the weather! 

Iinva is a newer settled country than Illinois, and 
has not had time to be so thoroughly tested as that 
State, but it is a fact that the famous corn belt of Illi- 
nois grows as fine crops to-day as it did thirty years 
ago. They have made their owners rich, and the ma- 
jority of them have large farms. There is no reason 
why Iowa will not do the same. There is no reason 
why the land in Iowa which can be purchased now for 
$18 to $25 per acre should not, within a few years, 
have a market value as great as the same grade of 
land in Illinois, which is now $ioo per acre. 

Speculators in land have amassed large fortunes in 
Iowa, as they have so frequently in Illinois. I am 
personally acquainted with a banker in Ottawa who 
purchased land of the Milwaukee & St. Paul R. R. Co. 
in Iowa a few years ago, so cheaply that when he sold 
it, some six years since at $io per acre, his net profit 
was $100,000! The same land cannot be bought to- 
day for less than $20 to $25 per acre. 

I know another resident of Ottawa who went to 
South I.)akota in August, 1895, ^^^^^ purchased 1000 
acres of raw land for $7,000, and within three months 



200 MK. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

was offered an advance in cash of $3,000. In Novem- 
ber of the same year I bought 160 acres situated in 
Kossuth county, Iowa, of a German who could neither 
read nor write (his wife could, though), and paid him 
$25 an acre. Three years previously this same piece 
cost the seller but $10 per acre. 

In the Fall of 1892 I selected 600 acres lying along 
the Minneapolis &: St Louis R R., that I could j^urchase 
at an average rate of $18 per acre. In December, 
1895, I could not touch an acre in all this vicinity for 
less than $30. I purchased, however, at this time, 
120 acres and paid $32 per acre. Six months later I 
was offered $40 per acre for the same piece. In 1893 
I bought a quarter section (160 acres) for $3,000. I 
did not make a wise choice. I was aware of this right 
after I made the contract. There were other pieces 
just as good which I could have taken for $2,500. But 
the parcel I bought netted me an average yearly profit 
of five per cent, during the three years I owned it, 
and in April, 1896, I sold it for $4,500. 

We own forty acres in "Starving Kansas (Nemaha 
county) that have netted us eight per cent, income 
during the last four years. It is only partially under 
cultivation, has no fe<ices, no buildings. It is true, 
however, that the Kansas property has greatly depre- 
ciated since the explosion of the "boom" in 1893. 
The inflation that had been going on there for a few 
years prior to that date was so rapid that a system of 
prices became established greater than the agricultural 
income and the manufacturing facilities of the State 
would warrant. Perhaps I can best illustrate the 
"Kansas boom" in the briefest manner, and give 
something typical of how all these "booms" are 
worked, by relating an incident told me by iVIrs. 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 20I 

of Ottawa, Illinois, using as nearly as possible her 
own words: 

"In 1889," she began, "we were living in Decatur, 
111. We owned a nice home and a general store, and 
were doing a good business. We had a son in Kansas, 
about twenty miles from Wichita, who kept writing, 
■and writing, and urging us to sell out and come to the 
little town where he was located. He was making 
money" so fast and there were such wonderful oppor- 
tunities to double and, as he said, 'treble' our capital 
that, after continual urging, we sold out and went 
there. Our son owned a drug store, and had various 
speculating interests. Sure enough, he was making 
money in a most surprising manner. It seemed as if 
everything he touched turned into money. There 
were several manufacturing plants run by Eastern 
capital, and rumors of new industries that were coming. 
Everybody was on the top wave of prosperity, happy 
and enthusiastic. I had never seen anything like it. 
My son had not told us the half. He couldn't. A 
person had to see for himself in order to realize 
it. My husband opened a boot and shoe store and 
bought several town lots, and, in two years, as our son 
had predicted, he had more than doubled his capital. 
His real-estate investments had trebled in market 
value. 

Our son built a ten-thousand-dollar house and I was 
mistress. (He was a bachelor ) I kept servants, for 
my son would not let me lift a hand to a bit of work. 
We had an elegant carriage and a pair of handsome 
thoroughbreds to draw it. I rode out every day. We 
lived in grand style." 

Here she laughed with a jolly sort of sarcasm. 

"Then the bubble burst," she added, "and every- 



202 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

thing dropped just like that," (striking her open palms 
together). " From the time that my son came home 
to us with the news that one of the heaviest Eastern 
capitalists, for some reason, what we never knew, had 
discharged his employes, closed up his factories and 
abandoned the place, crash after crash came. Banks 
failed- — everybody lost money. My husband and son 
refused to believe in the impending ruin. They kept 
thinking that matters would take a turn for the better, 
so they held on to their property until it dwindled to 
almost nothing on their hands. In less than six 
months the lots, for each of which my husband had 
been offered $2,000, came down until, when we left 
the town, we let them go for the taxes! We lost all 
we had and are now living with another of our sons 
here in Ottawa. 

"My son in Kansas? Oh, he went to live in Chi- 
cago, and is there now, poor fellow! Pa and I forgot 
our own troubles in sympathy for him. He took all 
the blame of our losses upon himself, a-^l nothing we 
could do, or say, could convince him to the contrary. 
But he is working to get another start, and I have no 
doubt he will succeed." 

Wichita went down in almost the same way. You 
see, rich men from Chicago, Buffalo, New York, Bos- 
ton and other cities, come into the small towns and 
start new industries, build stores, warehouses, and 
factories. They talk and advise, and advertise in the 
largest, most florid way. In other words, they go 
to work in a systematic fashion to lure everybody who 
has some money to come into these towns and engage 
in some sort of business undertaking that shall assist 
in abnormally stimulating enterprise, and inflate com- 
mercial values to the highest possible point Farmers 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 203 

in the vicinity catch at the bait that promises to make 
them speedily rich. They sell or mortgage their farms 
and hasten to take advantage of the tempting oppor- 
tunities opening up in the new "city." As the village 
increases in size and prosperity, the prices of the sur- 
rounding lands increase in proportion. People become 
sanguine, full of confidence, and consequently venture- 
some. They incur risks that their sober judgment 
would shrink from. Business moves in a swift current 
that is delightfully intoxicating. 

Two, three, sometimes four years, this charming 
state of things exists. The promoters of all this de- 
lusive prosperity have all along had their eyes upon 
the climax toward which they have been working from 
the beginning They have been gathering in the cash. 
Town lots that they have purchased for $25 or less 
they have disposed of for from $1,500 to $3,000. The 
stores they have built for $1,000 they have sold for 
$5,000. And so on, and so on. Their bunco talk, 
their blow about "reaching out and leading" has paid 
the blowers. The bubble has reached its limit. It 
will not bear further expansion. They quietly gather 
up their shekels and move on — -for another "boom." 
When the force that kept expanding the bubble is 
removed, there comes the instant collapse. A panic 
ensues. People make a run on the banks. The banks 
cannot meet such sudden claims. The doors close. In- 
dividuals who thought themselves rich, find they have 
hardly a dol ar. The situation of affairs gets into the 
newspapers and is taken up the length and breadth of 
the land. Persons who own property in the region of 
the unfortunate town, although it may be several miles 
distant, become anxious, and sell, or try to sell. If 
they own mortgages, they proceed to foreclose at once. 



204 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

Fear and suspicion are contagious, just as hope and 
confidence arc contagious. They spread. Some other 
towns become infected, and so, Hke the ripple from 
the stone cast into the water, disaster travels until 
people all over the country say, "Poor, miserable 
Kansas I " 

Time and again has this "boom" business been 
planned, and for "boodle" onlv, by crafty money- 
grabbers, yet, strangers to the business, and they con- 
stitute the majority, attribute the results to the con- 
ditions of the unfortunate State. jList consider the 
facts for a moment: 

Kansas had her "grasshopper" scare more than 
thirteen years since. She has always had her droughts 
and scorching winds to contend against. Yet, she con- 
tinued to improve for several years slowly and steadily, 
then rapidly, until she reached a condition where, in 
1892, land could not be purchased for less than $15 
per acre. This same land, in 1896, could be bought 
for from $4. to $5. Prices went down in this propor- 
tion all over the middle, southern, and western Kan- 
sas within a space of from two to five years. Is it 
reasonable to suppose that this sudden drop was be- 
cause the summer winds were more scorching, or the 
climate less favorable to the growing of crops? This 
would hardly be, since both experience and scientific 
investigation unite in deciding that permanent climatic 
changes are scarcely perceptible from year to year. 
It is only by carefully noting and comparing the 
changes in a decade, or more, that we can be sure that 
a permanent difference in the climate has been brought 
about. Then, if the land was as good, the climate as 
propitious in 1892-93, what could be the cause of so 
great and sudden a fall in land values? 



MR. EAGLE'S J. S. A. 



205 



Sioux City, Iowa, has had its record of rapid rise 
and sudden fall. I was there for several days in the 
early winter of 1892. The city was then in the height 
of its prosperity. Its Corn Palace excelled all its pre- 
decessors in artistic excellence and beauty. Flags 
were flying from every pinnacle, band music was every- 
where, and crowds too. The place did indeed present 
a gala appearance. I heard enthusiastic statements of 
its phenomenal growth, the exorbitant values of real 
estate, the various great industries that were yielding 
fortunes to their promoters, the railway lines, and the 
electric transit systems that were enriching stockhold- 
ers, the colleges that were to be, and the foundations 
of which were already started. I heard such accounts 
of all this that I could not forbear exclaiming: 

"For mercy's sake! do not tell me any more, for I 
shall never dare repeat it back in slow-going Illinois." 

Hardly one year passed before I read in a newspaper 
of the failure of a New England Loan & Trust Com- 
pany. As to the causes which led to this failure I will 
venture no opinion. I simply note that there was the 
statement of the failure. With this catastrophe were 
carried down leading firms and enterprises of Sioux 
City. One after another, commercial corporations 

sank, and private fortunes disappeared. Mr. H 

whose name had been on every one's tongue as "The 
Father of Sioux City," was said to be intimately con- 
nected with the failure of the above named Trust Co. 
He left not long afterwards, and when in 1895 ^ again 
visited there, I could learn nothing of his whereabouts. 

At this time I took a long ride on the electric cars 
about the city and into the suburbs. It was sad to see 
the abandoned foundations of their prospective col- 
leges, their partially built churches, their unused 



206 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

Street car tracks, their silent factories, together with 
other innumerable evidences of depreciated values and 
business stagnation that had well nigh throttled the 
life out of this charming little city. 

Sioux Falls, South Dakota, despite its divorce mills, 
has a similar story that could be told. I visited this 
city in 1895. Beautiful in its location, and the archi- 
tecture of its reddish-brown stone buildings, of which 
the whole city is chiefly made up (this stone is quar- 
ried in abundance close by), business depression hung 
over it like a pall. The person who has never shared 
the spirit of one of these hustling western towns when 
floating on the crest of prosperity, can hardly form an 
idea of the pitiable aspect it presents when under the 
heel of adversity One feels instinctively a strong 
feeling of resentment against the force that crushed 
such towering enterprise and energy; that laid low 
such marvellous ambitions; that has infused into the 
. atmosphere that pulsated with the very essence of en- 
thusiasm and buoyant hope, the deadening essence of 
the lotus. 

The lands of Iowa have had, as a rule, a compara- 
tively steady advancement in price. No demoralizing 
"boom" has thus far blighted their commercial prog- 
ress. During the last five or six years their market 
value has increased more rapidly than at any prior 
period. The recent acceleration has been largely, if 
not chiefly, due to Illinois. The exceptionally he ivy 
yield of corn in Illinois in 189 1-2, and the high price, 
ranging from fifty to seventy cents per bushel, enabled 
the average farmer to pay off the mortgage, if one 
were held, on his farm, and have a moderate surplus 
for other investments. Land in his own state having 
reached such high figures ($100 to $125 per acre) 



MR. EAGLE'S U S. A. 



207 



caused him to turn his attention to prospecting for 
cheaper farms. The "booms" in Nebrasl^a, I)al<;ota and 
Kansas having generally exploded, made him pause 
to take a look at what lay close to his own door. 
Iowa, owing to these same " booms" that were being 
worked up in previous years by eastern capitalists and 
in States farther west, had been in a great degree 
overlooked, but now, when she began to receive atten- 
tion, the Illinoisan discovered that her farm lands were 
every whit as good as the best lands of his own "great 
and glorious State of Illinois," as the Fourth of July 
orators phrase it, and could be purchased for about 
one-fifth the money. Such being the conditions, it 
would naturally follow that he would invest his surplus 
cash in these cheap lands, and go home and tell his 
neighbors what fine openings there were in Iowa, both 
for the speculator and the laboring farmer. Quick to 
see and ready to grasp an opportunity, as the true 
westerner usually is, crowds of Illinoisans began to flock 
into Iowa from all parts of the State. So great became 
the exodus in the month of March each year, that it 
was called the "exodus month." In McLean county 
alone, during the Spring of 1896, there were seventy 
carloads of household goods transported to Iowa, be- 
longing to families who were moving to that State. 
And thus it was all over Illinois, Init particularly among 
the large army of renters. These had to pay an av- 
erage rent per acre of from $5 to $6 for farms in Illi- 
nois, and occasionally as high as $7, In Iowa, they 
could rent just as productive lands for from $2 to $2. 25 
per acre. It is true that the price of corn and oats are 
three or four cents higher per bushel in central Illinois 
than in Iowa, on account of closer proximity to Chi- 
cago markets. 



2o8 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

The cost of fuel is about one-fourth higher in Iowa 
than in central Illinois. All other means of living are 
about the same, so that the added cost of fuel and the 
three or four cents less per bushel in market value of 
grain constitute a trifling off-set to the great difference 
in both the commercial and rental price of lands in the 
two States. Even the uneducated foreigner could see 
this, and both he and the Illinoisan have been ready 
to avail themselves of the advantage. In consequence, 
Iowa has made big strides in settlement during the 
last five years. Still, there are large areas of the most 
fertile soil awaiting the plow, and stretching away up 
into Minnesota. rVlong the line of the Minneapolis &: 
St. Paul R. R., on either side, east and west, reach 
acres and acres of unbroken land of as rich productiv- 
ity as the sun ever rested upon. The same is true of 
the Chicago, Milwaukee & St. Paul R. R. and the Chi- 
cago, Rock Island & Pacific R. R. The great and sole 
need is the industrious and capable farmer. To one 
who has seen the awful over-crowding of the large cities 
of our country, and the throngs of beings who beseige 
the offices of those who advertise for clerks and help to 
serve in positions of the e.xtremest meniality, at wages 
of six to ten dollars per week, the sight of these un- 
tilled acres of the newer West makes him feel like be- 
seeching with all his energy that these starving city 
hangers on may make an effort to flee from the great 
centers. That they may go where pure air has not 
been franchised, and no " corner " has been worked on 
human souls. I shall never forget the remark a man 
in New York city made to me: 

" Why, I could insert an ad in a daily, stating that I 
would pay for cats of all descriptions, and another, 
'clerk wanted,' and I'd get as many clerks as cats!" 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



209 



Now I do not claim that all the land in Iowa is of 
the same productive quality, nor that it has an equal 
depth of black loam. By no means. There are vary- 
ing depths, as there are in Illinois. The person who 
intends to purchase should always go on a pfospecting 
tour first. He should examine, himself, the depth of 
the fertile strata {which is the over-lying black loam). 

I may observe that, many times, have I heard 
people on. our trip, say, in response to the mention of 
the West: "But there's John Smith. He took his 
family and went out to the West, and lost everything 
he had. Come back poor as Job's turkey ! " And then 
I would ask: "Did Smith go out there before he 
bought?" And the invariable answer would be (I do 
not recall a single exception): "Well, no, he thought 
he was all right ! " The visitor should endeavor to 
post himself as fully as possible; personally inspect the 
land he hopes to buy, inquire into title and all other 
points he, or friends, or settlers, can conjure up. A 
man of ordinary brains who follows this plan will be as 
sure of striking a reasonably good bargain as he could 
in any enterprise, and a far better and safer than in 
most of them. 

There was a time, a few years back, when there was 
almost no sale for large tracts that were known as "the 
flats." These, in the Spring, are sometimes covered 
with water until the time of seeding is well under way, 
occasionally, past. But the experience of the Illinoisan 
has proved to him that these wet lands are, year by 
year, the most reliable for crops, as they are not so 
affected by droughts. Their fertility is also more en- 
during. 

The cultivation and settling up of a country has 
much to do in equalizing the rainfall, and, hence. 



2IO MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A 

the uniformity of the crop production. The tough sod 
of the unbroken prairie keeps the water upon its surface, 
and it gathers in pools or " pockets," as they say West, 
and often spreads over acres. These swampy patches, 
the more inexperienced frequently consider as ruining 
the value of an otherwise fine quarter-section. Facts 
have proven, however, that these same swampy sec- 
tions can be reclaimed by plowing around them and 
on to their edges more and more each year, "back 
furrowing," until, at the expiration of three or four 
years, they entirely disappear. The loosening of adja- 
cent soil enables the rain and moisture hovering about 
these wet patches to be absorbed, and instead of their 
proving an injury to the surrounding tract, they are 
found to be a direct benefit in supplying needed moisture 
during the heated and often rainless period of Summer. 

The experienced farmer of the West is chary of the 
ridgy, knolly lands. The black loam is not as deep, 
and they are too liable to fall prey to droughts. 

Iowa has never had what is called a "crop-failure." 
The grasshopper scourge happened more than a decade 
ago. Since then, an occasional drought, or excess of 
rainfall, has injured the crops as they do in all places, 
but when corn has been poor, other crops have been 
good, and thus have evened up, as a rule, the year's 
out-put. Not, for eighteen years, have Iowa farmers 
found it so difficult to pay their rents as during the 
year of unprecedented low prices, 1896. This I know 
of my own personal experience and knowledge. Those 
who have resided within its borders continuously since 
it became a State, in 1846, say that the year of '96 was 
the hardest Iowa has ever known, — and do not forget 
that it was not "no crops" they complained of, but 
" low prices." 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 211 

My early home was in Carroll county, New Hamp- 
shire. I first saw the light in a small farm cottage on 
the side of "Pocket Hill," in the Spring of 1842. 
This side hill commanded a most magnificent view of 
mountain scenery, and as the years came, and went, I 
learned to love it with every throb of my heart. It 
was strictly a farming region then. The "city- 
boarder " had not invaded its rural naturalness, as 
throngs of them have done of later years. Neither was 
it the fashion to talk of " deserted farms," yet, even in 
those comparatively prosperous days for that region, 
before the soil had been sapped, the life of the farmer 
and his family was a life of penury. I was steeped in 
it too thoroughly to ever forget its severe lessons. I 
remember perfectly the Summer I taught school in my 
"own deestric' " in the small red school house at the 
foot of " Pocket Hill," for $1.50 per week and boarded 
myself ! I was eighteen years old, and the school 
committeeman, whose business it was to hire the 
"skule marms," when he offered me the exalted position, 
said " it would be such an honor for me to keep school 
in my own deestric ' that he thought I ought to con- 
sider a dollar and fifty cents a week fust rate pay! " So 
it came about that I climbed the long hill daily through 
July and August (except Sundays) and badgered the 
brains of the fifteen to twenty youngsters who came to 
me, for — I don't believe one of them knew what, beyond 
the fact that their parents sent them to the school 
house at nine o'clock each morning to remain until four 
o'clock each afternoon. They brought their dinner 
pails; so did I, and together we lunched through the 
" nooning hour. " 

I sewed of nights and mornings on " sale-work " — 
made a pair of pantaloons each day, and so earned 



212 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

twenty-five cents. This "sale" clothing was brought 
from Boston by country merchants and distributed 
among the farmers' families to be made up, each family 
taking what they judged they could complete in from 
one to two weeks, when the garments would be called 
for by the merchants' employes, whom we country folk 
termed the "sale-work men." 

My parents gave me my board and what I earned by 
my sale-work I used for my clothes. I wanted to save 
the twelve dollars I would receive for my Summer's 
teaching to pay my expenses at the Academy at North 
Road, Parsonsfield, Maine, through the coming Fall 
term of school. This I did by managing as follows: 
Four dollars paid my tuition fee, eight paid for an attic 
room through twelve weeks, my parents furnished me 
provisions for food, and I did the cooking myself. My 
text books I bought with the proceeds of my sale-work. 

Permit me to add that I staid through the term, but 
I injured my health to such an extent that I was an in- 
valid for three years in consequence. Later, I again 
began plodding, and striving, and continued until I 
graduated from the Academy. Finally, I stood on the 
(then, to me) threshhold of fame — I became a teacher 
in a Public School in Boston. 

When I was thirty-five, I had never been beyond 
the western boundary of Massachusetts. I kne7v New 
England farm-life. The life that lies beneath all the 
beauteous descriptive glories of the mountains and 
hills. When I compare that life with the opportunities 
for obtaining homes in Iowa, Dakota, Minnesota, nay, 
even in the much reviled Kansas — Kansas, with its 
clouds of professional mortgage-statistics exaggerators 
and its droves of long-trained, traveling populists, I 
feel that I can not speak too forcibly in support of the 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



213 



comparative advantages of these States. If you could 
see how the ignorant foreigner, in a few years, accu- 
mulates a competency in these States, through the 
sheer force of stolid, peasant perseverance, in despite 
of the great draw-backs caused by centuries of oppres- 
sion across the seas, you would acknowledge the im- 
mense advantage the native American has, with his 
disciplined brain, his self-reliance, and quickness in 
seeing an opportunity. Alertness of intellect and 
sound judgment are at a premium in farming there, as 
elsewhere. 

This reminds me of a farmer we met in Vernon Cen- 
tre, N. Y. This man, I may say at the start, is one of 
the kind of men that is wanted in the West. He rep- 
resents a type that has made the West what it is today. 
The Easterner who sticks to the idea that the men who 
got rich in that section were those (as I more than 
once heard intimated on our journey) who could not 
make a living East because of their shiftlessness, and 
who simply stumbled into "a good thing,'" is as far 
from the truth as is the earth from the stars. As I 
write, I think of the statement one of the old settlers 
in Illinois once made to me : " I slaved for eight years so 
I could get a thousand dollars in clear cash," he said. 
"When I was thirty, I set out, bound to keep on goin' 
till I found a farmin' section where I could plow ground 
'stid o' rocks! I come to Illinoy, an' here I be yit! " 
No, I assure the reader that those who settled the vir- 
gin West were not, as a class, the will less, spiritless 
wanderers. They had a purpose as definite as the old 
gentleman I have just quoted. But, to return to the 
Vernon Centre farmer: 

This Mr. Eddy had not much book training, but he 
made use of the brains that had been given him in 



214 ^^ EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

Studying the ways and means of making money. He 
had been an extensive hop-grower, but when the duty 
was taken from hops, instead of continuing the busi- 
ness, as the majority about him did, and to their in- 
creasing ruin, he promptly turned his attention to dairy 
farming. To this new enterprise, he brought the ad- 
vantages of modern improvements and inventions. 
Instead of adhering to the old regime of feed for his 
cows, he at once make the experiment of preparing en- 
silage. He built one silo at first, then, when this was 
proven a success, built another, and another, until he 
had bins to hold feed for fifty cows, through a whole 
year. 

Possibly I here may be some who have no very defi- 
nite knowledge of what a .silo is. I will briefly describe 
one of them belonging to Mr. Eddy. It was a bin 
built inside his barn, in one corner, eighteen feet square 
and twenty feet deep; made air tight by closely fitting 
boards forming two walls, having between them tarred 
paper. The joists and timbers were large, and placed 
very near together, as great strength and firmness of 
construction are required to resist the immense pres- 
sure to which it is subjected when filled with chopped 
green corn and stalks, to the brim, as it is designed to 
be. In September, when corn is so far matured that 
the kernels are well filled, but still "in the milk," as 
farmers call it, the stalks are cut off as close to the 
ground as convenient, hauled to the barn, and ground 
to bits in a machine driven by a p(n"table engine, 
The pieces into which the corn is cut are not more 
than an inch long. 

As the chopping proceeds, the product is forced up- 
ward through a box-like funnel to the top of the bin, 
and dropped therein. This is spread over the bottom 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



215 



of the bin, and each layer of about six inches in depth 
is sprinkled with salt, until the bin is filled to the brim. 
The top is not covered with boards, but left entirely 
open. As the contents settle, new layers are deposited 
until the mass becomes quite solid. Then it is ready 
for Winter's use. It ferments a little on the upper 
layers, but the rest remains fresh and sweet the whole 
year, and has all the milk producing qualities of the 
green corn -fodder, cut, and brought freshly from the 
field in Autumn. By this food, cows are made to give 
nearly, if not quite, as much milk in Winter as in the 
warm weather. 

"A good deal of expense, Mr. Eddy," 1 remarked 
when I had looked over the place; "do you make it 
pay?" 

"Well, I should say I do!" he replied enthusiasti- 
cally. 

"How many acres of land have you, altogether? " 

"About four hundred." 

"Awfully rocky," I commented ruefully. 

"Pretty well peppered," (laughing). 

"I would like to hear as much as you feel like tell- 
ing of the way you manage — how much you make your 
farm net you in the course of a year, etc.," I said. 

" I've no sort of objection to telling you the whole 
thing, if you care to listen," he asserted good naturedly. 

" In the first place," he began, "I keep from forty 
to fifty cows, and so I get a good deal of dressing for 
my land, which keeps it up in tip-top condition for 
crops. I raise oats, on an average, of thirty to thirty- 
five bushels to the acre. Some years yield fifty, or, 
occasionally, as high as sixty. My corn is all made 
into ensilage. Some of my cows give thirty quarts of 
milk a day! 1 keep good blooded stock; no scrubs; 



2i6 MR- EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

but all first class milkers. I send my milk down here 
to Oneida, four miles, every morning and get one and 
three-fourth cents per quart in Summer and three cents 
in Winter." 

" And you make that pay?" I exclaimed. 

" Yes, I made in 1895, clear of all expenses (I mean 
supported my family, wife and four children, the old- 
est is twelve, and paid every bill), and had $1,500 cash 
left!" 

" On this rocky, sandy soil! " I groaned. 

Mr. Eddy laughed. " It don't look to you, I sup- 
pose, worth cultivating as compared with western 
land? " he queried. 

" Excuse rae, if I say it does not," I answered, while 
my inward comment was: 

"A man who could accomplish that here^ would be 
a millionaire if in Iowa a few years." 

As we journeyed on, day by day, past the large fields 
of hops whose owners told us they were paying their 
hired pickers seven cents a pound for their work, while 
the market price was six cents a pound for the deliv- 
ered product, we realized more than ever the excep- 
tional enterprise of this Vernon Centre dairy man. 

A. S. A, 



OLD FOGY TOWNS. 



W 7E were coming to a new type of village now. 
YY Along in eastern New York and southern New 
Hampshire, the towns had seemed to have a 
rural, matter-of-fact aspect, but we had not been among 
Massachusetts towns a day before we noticed a change. 
In addition to obscurity and ancient ideas, we were be- 
ginning to find an all-pervading aristocracy. Yes, real 
aristocracy. Somehow you felt that the residents of 
these towns had ancestors. I do not pretend to say 
what it was that first gave one this feeling. I only 
know we had it. Perhaps it was the fact that the large, 
old houses, set about the village parks, were surrounded 
by trees and shrubbery that were so untrimmed that 
they seemed to have been purposely let alone, for fear of 
a ray of light slanting in upon the traditional gloom. 
There appeared to be but two colors permitted for the 
painting of these mansions, dull white, and pale yellow. 
Usually, the body of the house was of yellow, with 
white trimmings. The paint was exquisitely clean! No 
vulgar factory, or engine smoke, had soiled the origi- 
nal hue. Perhaps it was because the old ladies we saw 
moving like spectres along the streets, stalked by so 
erectly and silently, with folded arms beneath their 
black alpaca shawls, that you instinctively felt they 
were persons of distinction, according to their way of 
thinking. At any rate, we decided we had left the 



2ig MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

region where people happened^ and had come to the 
solemn realm where former generations had not lived 
recklessly, but had had forethought enough to go out 
as officers in the Revolution in order that their great 
grandchildren should be eligible to become ofificers of 
the " Sons of the Revolution," " Daughters of the Rev- 
olution," or "Colonial Dames." What remarkable 
judgment! As I looked with awe upon some of the 
chisel-visaged grandchildren bowed, with the weight of 
family lore, I marvelled all the more at there ever hav- 
ing been such a being as "A. Lincoln " in the White 
House, and at the American people having been able 
to survive the shock when this same "A. Lincoln" had 
the effrontery to put a little red-whiskered tanner in as 
Commander-in-Chief of the United States Army! Here 
were the people fitted to accomplish great things, for 
the reason they had been logically evolved, and had not 
just transpired, like so many of us. 

We got into Ashby late in the evening, and I asked 
where there was a hotel, or livery stable. I was so 
quietly informed by a tall grey-bearded gentleman, 
clad in threadbare salt-and-pepper, that ''there was 
nothing of the sort in Ashby," that I drove on, half 
ashamed at my audacity and, after much inquiry, we 
finally discovered a kind-hearted lady who gave us ac- 
commodations. 

Groton was our next stopping place. We reached 
there the following noon. A large, yellow building 
was pointed out to us "as having been a tavern once." 
I walked up to the door, and asked if we could get din- 
ner. A spinster of hazy yearage, with frigid exactitude, 
announced : 

"No. We are not in the habit of accommodating 
strangers, and Sundays especially!" 



MR. EAGLfS U. S. A. 219 

"At what period, madam," I queried, " was it that 
you were in the habit? In the giddy '40's! " 

An angry "Sir?" told me I had better be getting 
out of that. 

After much questioning and hunting, I found a col- 
ored man who told me "they wuz a place back on a 
side street where they fed strangers. " We went to this 
and were well treated. We had a most excellent meal. 
(This was thoroughly important to /«(f.) The proprie- 
tor, a youngish man, seemed as if he had at some time 
or other, been beyond the borders of Groton. His 
manner was agreeable, and I thought to ask him a few 
questions. 

" Friend," I said, " you appear to have a tincture of 
the spirit of brotherhood in your craw, and some intel- 
ligence in your system. I am curious to know how it 
occurs that you live in a town like this." 

He smiled half apologetically and answered: "My 
wife has been sick for some time, and I am staying 
here on that account. Queer place, isn't it? Did you 
try to get dinner up at the big yellow house?" Upon 
my nodding, he continued: "Old maids run that, and 
they won't accommodate strangers, for they get about 
seven dollars a week boarding the Academy boys. You 
know there's an Episcopal school here. How did you 
find the way to this little hotel of mine?" 

"There was a colored man told me of it." 

" Well, I thought it was something like that. They 
don't want a hotel in the place here and are just bound 
I shan't run one. It was just by accident you got here. 
Folks in Groton simply want to exist. They don't 
want factories nor enterprises, and drive them away if 
they possibly can, though there are excellent chances 
here in that line if people were only willin'! I guess 



220 MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 

the general sentiment here is about what an old lady 
told me t'other day. Said she thought Groton was 
such an aristocratic place to die in. Said she'd rather 
die at Groton, Mass , than any other place in the 
United States." 

I noticed that an old gentleman who was seated com- 
fortably in a carriage, at the stone steps leading to the 
entrance of the large yard adjoining, seemed to be lis- 
tening to our conversation with some interest. He 
was close enough to hear everything we said. "It 
seems to me," he presently broke out, "that you are 
conversing in a very irreverent spirit I 

"Wherefore the irreverence, uncle?" I inquired. 

" Why, do you know, sir, that some of the finest old 
families in the State reside in (iroton? Families, sir, 
who have the blood of the Revolution in their veins! " 

"Uncle," I answered, as I stepj^ed up closer, that 
he might be sure to miss nothing, "I'm just in the 
mood to waste a half-bushel of words with you, and 1 
would begin by telling you that I would like to have 
you explain, so that I can get it through my low, venal 
intellect, just what these ' fine old families ' amount to, 
anyway? " 

"Amount to? Amount to, do you say? \Vhy, do you 
think it nothing to be descended from the Winthrops, 
the Warrens, the Endicotts? I'm astonished, young 
man, at your coarseness! \Vhy, in that burial ground 
yonder repose the bones of some of the most distin- 
guished men of this nation ! " 

"But will you tell me how those musty bones 
give the license for a lot of the present dwellers of 
Groton to dry-rot as barnacles? W'ill you tell me why 
it is that because General Warren was a brave cit- 
izen soldier, there should be several hundred people 



MR EAGLE'S O. S. A. 221 

here who would refuse to have electric lights, to have 
modern systems of sewerage, to have public baths, but 
who grow skinnier and stingier every day sipping tea 
and looking at daguerreotypes?" 

"Confound your impudence! I'm proud of my an- 
cestry, sir ! Proud of it I " 

"But what have yoi/ done? That's the question. In 
the region where I came from they bring great draft 
stallions from France and Belgium. They raise 
blooded horses. Why? So that they can have the 
honor of keeping those splendid colts in the stables, 
and tell people about the fine pedigrees? Not much. 
They do this because these colts do more work than 
those of mongrel breed. Now. this is just the kick 
the great live world has against you gravestone-wor- 
shipers. Here you are, the descendants of worthy 
men. Have you, with your purple mien, given us our 
Edisons and Ericcsons? The world expects you to ac- 
complish greater deeds than the ordinary. To be 
personal, uncle, where were you when the fellows of 
common mold were down around Donelson, and Chic- 
amauga, and Shiloh, and Gettysburg? Were you in a 
blue coat, with a sword in your hand? No, the flush 
on your face tells me you were more likely at Boston 
studying genealogical tomes. You — " but " Uncle" 
had hit the old family horse a vigorous thwack and 
was clattering up the street, while I thought I heard 
words of aneer in the air. 



WE SOLILOQUIZE. 



/ / II Tot HER Ames, how do you feel about this 
I Vl journey ? " 

"I think we have had a capital time. 
And, John, you've been real good. You did sputter 
though, when you thought I had lost that little 
alcohol stove back there, — let's see, Clinton, N. Y., 
wasn't it? " 

"Well, I had to let you know that I was alive once 
• in a while, just to slightly assert my independence. 
And you know when you began, in Ohio, to leave 
things at the hotels it looked ominous. I didn't know 
but you'd decided to strew our traps with discrimina- 
tion all along the way, giving one family some hairpins 
and tooth-brushes, and another, ointment and curry- 
combs. It was at Conneaut, Ohio, you left your specs 
as a reminder of your visit, was it not? " 

"Oh, you hush! I haven't lost much. We didn't 
have much to lose, though, did we?" 

"But are you satisfied with the trip? With wi'at 
pleasure, information, or health, you have gained?" 

"Yes, indeed, I am! I can hardly express my sat- 
isfaction. It has been the most profitable Summer of 
my life. I feel that I know immensely more about 
people, their ways of living, and their ways of thinking. 
My health is better, and I am stronger than I have 
been for a dozen years. Do you know, the fact that 



MR. EAGLE'S U S. A. 223 

has impressed me most of all, has been the meeting of 
so many farm folk who seemed to view life with the 
dejected conclusion that the.y were practically chained 
to their worn-out soil, and didn't believe there was, in 
any quarter of the world, a soil upon which they could 
succeed much better, and they didn't feel interested in 
hearing one speak of any such alleged locality. It was 
their apathy toward the hearing about it, and their ef- 
forts to convince one that they were just as well off as 
they ever could be anywhere, that amazed me. Now, 
what has been the leading lesson to you? " 

"Well, — I must say it, if I was born in Boston — 
that I feel a vastly greater realization of the won- 
derful future the West, industrially and agriculturally, 
certainly has before it. I feel a sense of security 
and an enthusiasm in that conviction that, I think, 
could have been obtained in no other manner than the 
actual going-through these small towns and farms from 
Ohio on eastward. 

"And, mother, the expenses haven't been so very 
steep! You know we've made so many meals with 
that alcohol stove. We've used it to get lunches at 
noons, and make coffee in our rooms at the hotels. In 
fact, we've saved a good many dollars by that stove. 
Let me look — I can figure it up by this memorandum 
book: 

"We started the 19th of July and it's now the 28th 
of September. We've been on the road a little over 
nine weeks; we are both in excellent health; Kit is 
sound as a rock, and it has cost for all expenses — 
Wait a minute — here! — I have it! — $250!" 

" It does seem queer (doesn't it?) to be driving in old 
Massachusetts. Just think! we went through Concord 
this morning! " 



224 



MR. EAGLE'S U. S. A. 



" That is so. And — look ! " 

We were on the top of a big hill, and, away in the 
distance, a yellowish dome designated — the State 
House. 



C 310 88 







MR. EAGLES u. s. A 




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